


tough like rocks and sweet like pearls

by Shadowcrawler, unwindmyself



Series: What do you say, is this the time for one more try at a happy life? [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Big Hero 6 (2014), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, Asexual Awareness Week, Asexual Relationship, Blindfolds, Body Chains, Body Paint, Bondage, Casual Sex, Coda, Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Developing Relationship, Discovery, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Excessive Exposition, Explicit Consent, F/F, Face-Sitting, Female Relationships, Femslash, Femslash February, Fluff, Foreplay, G-spot Orgasm, Gags, Genderqueer Character, Gift Exchange, Hair Washing, Hangover, Honeymoon, Hook-Up, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Exploration, Making Out, Marijuana, Misanthropy, Morning After, Multi, Orgasm Delay, Other, Panties, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Femslash, Romantic Friendship, Rough Sex, Service Submission, Sex Toys, Shopping, Spanking, Strap-Ons, Switching, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Teasing, Temperature Play, Threesome - F/F/F, Vaginal Fingering, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, Vibrators, Weekend Getaway, Wooing, safe sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2018-02-22 10:12:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 106,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2504084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowcrawler/pseuds/Shadowcrawler, https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwindmyself/pseuds/unwindmyself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Extracurricular vignettes for various established femslash pairings taking place in the pre-established shopping mall alternate universe.</p><p>This time: Skye, Jemma, and Bobbi are feeling a little frisky after the New Years' gala.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. you're speaking like scissors cutting out a foreign pattern

**Author's Note:**

> After Raina and Lorelei hooked up at the party in the mallverse proper, we realized that smut was necessary but didn't want to interrupt the fic for it. And then we realized that smut was necessary with a lot of the ladies and... this happened. This is the first installment in a collection of planned femslash smut that fits within the mallverse, as the mood strikes us.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belongs to unwindmyself by herself; featuring the not-so-odd-after-all match that is Raina/Lorelei both during the morning after and the night of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Directly follows [but I'm sick and tired of your poisonous ways, your toxin wasting perfectly good space](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/5509949).

“You’re still here,” Lorelei says with a certain measure of surprise.

“Should I not be?” Raina asks, looking up from the bowl of cereal she’s fixed herself.

“If a guy had helped themselves to my Cheerios, I would personally kick them out the door,” Lorelei declares, folding her arms and leaning against the wall for a moment.

What she’s doing is really _examining_ Raina: with the old t-shirt she slept in (one she’d brought with her, apparently, given that Lorelei doesn’t recognize it as her own: some souvenir from a trip to Hawaii emblazoned with a giant fading hibiscus) and her face scrubbed clean of the red lipstick/violet eyeshadow combination she’d been sporting last night, plus the entirely guileless way her eyes are widened, Raina looks deceptively young and even fragile.  She’s _so_ far from Lorelei’s usual taste (even farther from her usual encounters) but, well.  There’s no kicking in any danger of happening.

Instead what she does is take a bowl from her cabinet and pour herself some Cheerios, too.

“Good morning,” Raina says.

“Good morning,” Lorelei returns, sounding just slightly uncomfortable.

And that tone makes Raina fold her hands, adopt an expression that’s all business.  “If you’d rather we pretend that I didn’t give you what I assume given your going-on were the best orgasms you’ve had all year, that’s fine,” she declares.  “I won’t be bothered.  I’ll finish this cereal and then be on my way.”

Lorelei can’t help it, she about barks out a laugh.  If nothing else, she appreciates the girl’s bluntness.  “Don’t hurry it,” she shrugs.  “I don’t have anywhere to be today.”

 

* * *

 

They don’t discuss the fact that they walk out of Stark’s place together, Lorelei’s leather jacket tossed over one shoulder and Raina carrying her now-droopy fairy wings in one hand, and they don’t discuss the fact that they climb in the same cab.  The implication is that they’re just splitting the fare, probably, but when the driver pulls up to Lorelei’s apartment building there’s a pause when she climbs out, then she leans back down and asks, “Are you coming?”

“Hopefully,” Raina says with a sneaky smile.

She follows Lorelei into the lobby and to the elevator, keeps a respectful distance, but she’s sporting this told-you-so of a smirk like she just knew this was going to happen.  She’s also swinging her oversized bag against her shins like an impatient kid waiting for recess to start, which strikes Lorelei as almost as arrogant as the expression.

It’s kind of fascinating, actually.

“Nice place,” Raina muses as she steps in, her eyes traveling from the expensively-finished kitchen to the lofted sleeping area to the overpriced leather furniture.  It definitely doesn’t look like the kind of place that you can get on a bra specialist’s salary.

“It was a gift,” Lorelei says bluntly.  “From an ex-boyfriend.  He was a plastic surgeon.”  Raina isn’t reacting to the implication, so Lorelei adds, “He bought it for me so we could have a place to meet that his wife wouldn’t know about.”

“But I bet she found out anyway,” Raina suggests.

“I dumped him before that became an issue,” Lorelei amends.

“Oh,” Raina says.  Her tone is devoid of judgment, or really devoid of anything, and because Lorelei doesn’t know what to do with that, she stops in her tracks and leans up against the kitchen counter, eying the other woman appraisingly. 

“Why a fairy?” she asks.

Raina, to her credit, just shrugs.  “Fairies make people happy.”  Lorelei is staring at her disbelievingly, so she adds, “And if you trace the legends back, they’re also scary as fuck.”

That makes Lorelei laugh.  “Good thing I’m on your good side, then,” she purrs.

“For now,” Raina returns with a placid smile.

 

* * *

 

“I’m not working today either,” Raina says.

“I can’t imagine anyone is if they were smart enough to get out of it,” Lorelei shrugs, reaching for the orange juice that Raina must have found in the back of the fridge and opened (another no-no if a guy had done it, but Lorelei’s starting to realize that something about Raina’s attitude means that she can get away with breaking rules).

“Poor mallgoers,” Raina sighs airily.  “Left to deal with at best the inexperienced baby employees and at worst the hungover adults.”  She pauses to take a bite of her cereal, then smiles.  “I guess it’s their own fault, really.”

Lorelei smirks.  “Fools,” she agrees.

“I bet Stark’s place looks like something exploded,” Raina declares.

“Are you kidding?” Lorelei snarks.  “Between his eerie robot butler… thing and the way the Potts woman falls backwards to make him happy even though all he does is take advantage of her, I’m sure it’s tidy as anything by now.”

Raina stifles a laugh behind her hand as she nods.  “I guess we all have our weaknesses,” she shrugs, though the look on her face makes it clear what she thinks of that.

“Some of us more than others,” Lorelei observes, raising an eyebrow.

 

* * *

 

 

Raina flops backward on the bed once they’ve made it up that way, sticking her feet straight up in the air as she tugs her boots off and humming in concentration.  It’s such a weirdly confident little move that it would look calculated if almost anyone else did it, and as such Lorelei can’t help but smile (but only while Raina isn’t looking).

She herself hangs her jacket on the back of her chair, then sits backward in it to watch Raina’s little show.  “You’re making yourself right at home,” she declares.

“Should I not?” Raina asks lightly, popping back up and staring at Lorelei with anime eyes.

“I didn’t say that,” Lorelei shrugs.  “It takes a lot of nerve, that’s all.”

“Thank you,” Raina hums, unwinding the flowers from around her waist and then starting to unhook her corset. 

“You’re very strange,” Lorelei says.

“I get that a lot,” Raina agrees.  “Am I going to be the only naked one tonight?”

Lorelei can’t help it, she starts to laugh as she unlaces her own boots and shimmies out of her pants.  “You want me to keep the fangs in or not?” she asks, and it’s unclear if she’s teasing.

“Not,” Raina says immediately.  “They’re not sharp enough to do any real damage.”

 

* * *

 

“Is that normal for you?” Raina asks.

“What?” Lorelei replies, though she thinks she knows.

“Showing up at a party with one person and going home with another,” Raina clarifies.

“Oh, honey,” Lorelei chuckles.  “It is, but it’s not like that.  Loki and I have… a business arrangement.  Let’s put it that way.”

“He doesn’t seem your usual type,” Raina observes.

“Not that kind of business arrangement,” Lorelei rolls her eyes, though she’s smiling.  “He’s a budding misanthrope.  I’m counseling him.”  She shrugs, takes a bite of cereal before adding, “I’d taken him to a different party before we showed up at Stark’s.  Friends of my sister’s, mostly, a mystical sort of crowd.  I thought he might get on with them.”

“Did he?” Raina asks.

“I have no idea,” Lorelei says.  “Other more interesting things got my attention.”

Raina smiles widely at that, and it’s so presumptuous Lorelei has to grin too.

 

* * *

 

“Come here,” Raina orders once she’s all the way naked (except her crown of fake purple flowers, that’s staying on, apparently).

“You’re bossy,” Lorelei laughs, but she finishes unfastening her corset and slinks up to the other woman, climbing slowly onto the bed and leaning in for a hungry kiss that’s all teeth and tongue.

“Ow,” Raina whispers fondly. 

“I’m reading between the lines,” Lorelei counters.

Instead of saying anything, Raina moves her mouth to Lorelei’s jaw, then her neck, kissing and sucking on the skin and letting out an appreciative murmur.  “Turn around,” she says.

“You’re _very_ bossy,” Lorelei corrects, but she does, lining her hips up parallel to Raina’s and kneeling above her knee, leaning her back against Raina’s front.

“Call it intuition,” Raina murmurs, letting one hand skim down Lorelei’s breasts and over her stomach.  “But you look like a girl who’s been getting by on the bare minimum for too long.”

Lorelei tips her head back, makes to catch Raina’s lips with her own.  “You say that like you think you’re better than that,” she whispers.

“I know so,” Raina declares.  She’s infuriatingly self-assured, but given the way she slips her hand between Lorelei’s legs and gets right to work, she might be onto something.

 

* * *

 

“You’re strange,” Lorelei says yet again.

“You haven’t kicked me out yet,” Raina points out.  “So I’m guessing that you mean that as a compliment.”

“I’m not sure what I mean it as,” Lorelei says.  “But you’re interesting.  You’re more interesting than most of the people we’re surrounded by every day.”

“That’s a compliment for sure,” Raina says.  “I think most of them just haven’t realized that they’re allowed to be something more than they are.”

Lorelei leans forward across the table, takes Raina’s face in her hands and kisses her noisily. 

 

* * *

 

All the while that Raina’s working her fingers against Lorelei, she’s kissing her throat, her shoulders; all the while that Lorelei’s being kissed, she’s reaching behind her to grab at Raina’s ass, her waist, anywhere she can dig her fingernails into the flesh and make Raina moan against her skin.

“You like that?” Lorelei asks huskily.

“Yeah-huh,” Raina pants, biting into the flesh of Lorelei’s shoulder.  “S’nice.”

“Good,” Lorelei exclaims, grinning as she grinds down on Raina’s thigh.  “Keep going and maybe I’ll reward you for it.  See what else you like.”

“Incentive,” Raina breathes out, chuckling.  She scrapes her fingernails over Lorelei’s clit, focusing her efforts there almost immediately.

 

* * *

 

"Want me to do your toenails?" Raina offers as they're clearing away the dishes.

"Why the hell would you wanna do that?" Lorelei asks. She punctuates the question with a sharp blast of water from the faucet.

"Why wouldn't I?" Raina counters.

Lorelei furrows her brow.  It's a good question, actually, but she doesn't feel like sharing the answer (which is _because you got what you came for, why haven't you left_ ).  Instead she says, "Fine.  Turquoise.  It's in the cabinet by the bathroom mirror."

 

* * *

 

Lorelei comes just as theatrically as one might expect, shuddering and panting, and it takes Raina a moment to judge if it’s genuine, but when she all but collapses back, pinning her against the bed, she has a pretty good clue.

“Well,” Lorelei breathes out.

“I’m not done,” Raina whispers before she can stop herself.

Lorelei turns her head, drops a kiss on Raina’s breast and follows it with a bite.  “You’ve got nerve,” she purrs.

“I like to dream big,” Raina returns.  She gets a fistful of Lorelei’s hair, tugs her up for a proper kiss, then flips her over while she’s still floaty.  “Let’s go again.”

 

* * *

 

“This feels like being in junior high,” Lorelei says dryly, sipping from her mug of coffee.

“Did you fuck a lot of girls out in junior high?” Raina asks sweetly.

And dammit, that makes Lorelei laugh.  “Not the _context_ ,” she says. “Just the present activity.”

“I see,” Raina says, nodding.  “Well, I’m going to assume that’s meant fondly.”

Lorelei takes a minute to consider this.  Oddly enough, it is.  “I guess if it was junior high, though, I wouldn’t be hanging out with the weird stoner chick,” she muses.

“I don’t actually smoke that much,” Raina says.  “Once, twice a month, maybe.  It’s better if you save it for really special occasions.”

“Special occasions,” Lorelei repeats.  “We should do it together some time.”

“Some time.”  Raina leans back, caps the polish.  “Who would you have been hanging out with in junior high if not the weirdos like me?”

Lorelei raises an eyebrow.  Thanks to her sister, she always had a crowd, all of them hair-tossing lip-gloss-addicted wannabe mean girls who didn’t trust each other, who operated on the “keep your friends close and your enemies closer” premise because that’s what they thought they had to do when they were conditioned to see each other as rivals for guys’ attention and nothing else was as important.  That seems a little too personal to confess, though, so Lorelei just says, “What do you think?”

“The cool girls,” Raina says without missing a beat.  “I bet you hated to, but you could play their game.”

There’s apparently no point lying to Raina.  She picks up on everything.

 

* * *

 

This time, Raina pushes Lorelei flat on her back and kisses down her body, slow but rough, and a couple of times she pauses to admire her handiwork (the flush she’s called up on Lorelei’s chest, the broken blood vessels scattered here and there).

There’s less teasing, she gets right to it now that they’re past the formalities, and she dives in to nip at Lorelei’s flesh.

“Yummy,” she says softly.

In response, Lorelei hums impatiently, pushes her hips toward Raina’s mouth.

“I know, beautiful,” Raina coos. “I’m getting there.”

Or more accurately, she’s gotten there already, because she licks at Lorelei’s clit like an exclamation mark.

 

* * *

 

“I guess I could do yours, too,” Lorelei offers once they’re sure her own toenails are dry.

“Okay,” Raina agrees. “Use the same color. That’s pretty.”

“And nobody’s going to notice it matches,” Lorelei says.

“Like secret best friend bracelets,” Raina giggles.

Lorelei should find that idea a lot more unnerving than she does. She should also find the giggling a lot more unnerving than she does. Instead she mostly just finds it charming.

This is going to be a problem, but she’s up for it.

 

* * *

 

Lorelei is pleasantly surprised.   That’s the best way to put it. For everyone she tangles up with it’s been embarrassingly long since someone actually got her off without her helping herself along, let alone twice in one night.

But Raina’s proving relentless, fingers and tongue and god, she’s probably good with who knows what kind of weird toys too but that’s for another night, and after round two Lorelei abruptly switches their positions, pins Raina’s wrists against the bed with one hand, and lets the other dart between Raina’s legs.

“Put on a nice show for me?” she croons.

Raina grins, her eyes going even bigger, and she pushes against Lorelei’s fingers demandingly. “I’ll do my best,” she breathes out, following it with a loud moan.

“That’s it,” Lorelei says, delighted.

“I know,” Raina replies.

 

* * *

 

They’re lazily flipping through movie channels when Raina says, “I’m not going to brag.”

“Excuse me?” Lorelei murmurs, landing rather comically on a kids’ channel playing some movie about talking dogs.

“About this,” Raina clarifies. “I know how the guys who sleep with you get.”

“And you also know what I do them,” Lorelei says coldly.

“I do,” Raina agrees, “but that’s not my point. It’s no one’s business and therefore while they can draw their own conclusions it won’t be from anything I share.”

For at least the fourth time since last night, Lorelei is speechless.

“What you wanna do is up to you,” Raina continues. “But I for one am looking forward to a night sometime in the future that I spend both smoking and eating you out and getting the favor returned, to say nothing of other nights, to say nothing of how this has been an odd and pleasant surprise. I don’t like fucking up good things.”

“Sweetheart, I’m hardly a good thing,” Lorelei deadpans.

“Good enough for me,” Raina says. 


	2. only you are on my rainbow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So thanks in part to the inevitable holiday hiring blitz and in part to the story's soon-to-be inclusion of other nearby businesses, this verse is going to be involving a whole new slew of characters very soon. And we thought why not start this off with some nice asexual femslash? There is a bit more handwaving of MCU canon as far as many of the new players are concerned, including these two (they're 21 and 22 respectively and their hair is the color that they are in general in the film).
> 
> The story itself is basically just subtle affection and the midday snuggles that both girls deserve.

“What are you doing here?”

“Got bored.  Fucked off from work.”  Nebula smirks as if this is perfectly normal.  “Gamora was out on lunch, and Drax doesn’t give a shit what I do.”

Carina sighs, trying for some semblance of disapproval and entirely failing.  “I guess the only thing to do is ask you in,” she says, stepping aside to underscore this.

“Thanks, babe.”  Nebula ambles inside and makes herself at home on Carina’s couch.  “Got any beer?”

“Not at twelve-thirty in the afternoon!” Carina exclaims, entirely scandalized.

“You’re no fun,” pouts Nebula.  “Kisses, then?”

“Those, always,” Carina says sweetly, gliding over and bending to press her lips to Nebula’s.

“That’s not a kiss at all,” grumbles Nebula.  “Like you _mean_ it.”

Carina settles on the empty part of the cushion, leaning in and wrapping her arms around Nebula’s shoulders before giving it another go.  This time, the kiss lingers, and she can tell she’s succeeded from the soft whimper Nebula lets out.

“Better,” Nebula says once the kiss ends, smiling slightly.  This is the equivalent of a huge grin from anyone else.

“I was going to make myself a grilled cheese,” Carina declares, turning to glance into her kitchen.  “Should I make two?”

“Yeah, thanks.  I figured I’d crash here for a while and we could find something stupid to watch.  I want cuddles.”

“How long do you think you can get away with playing hooky?” Carina asks as she moves toward the pantry, turning over her shoulder to give Nebula a slightly more effective skeptical look.

Nebula shrugs.  “Couple of hours?  I figure I’d head back when you do.  When’s your shift start today?”

“Four,” Carina says.  “I was planning on getting there a bit early, though.  Just in case.”

“God, you’re such a square,” teases Nebula.  “Yeah, that’s fine.  There’s two of them there, they can get along fine without me.  And what’s Gamora gonna do, fire me?  Yeah right.”

“Why is it,” begins Carina, “that you tolerate my kindness toward you but disdain your sister’s?”

“I like you, duh.” Nebula rolls her eyes.  “Gamora always thinks she knows what’s best.  So annoying.”

Carina turns away, fussing with getting out the bread and cheese very determinedly so Nebula doesn’t see her entirely sincere and entirely disheartened frown.  “I’ll choose to be flattered by that,” she says instead.

“Good.”  After a moment of silence while she browses through Netflix, Nebula calls, “You care if we watch _Cutthroat Kitchen_?”

“That’s fine,” Carina replies.  “Cheddar or mozzarella?  Or both?”

“Both!”  Nebula sounds more cheerful at the prospect of food.

“All right.”  It’s quiet as Carina puts the sandwiches together and flips on her panini maker, then returns to the pantry.  “Chips, too?”

“Sure!  Whatever you’ve got.”

It’s a testament to their closeness that Carina just brings the bag - original flavor, because she wouldn’t want to clash with the sandwiches - and doesn’t insist on first pouring them into a bowl.  “Yes?” she confirms before she sets them down.

“Great!”  Nebula stuffs a handful into her mouth and mumbles a “thanks” around it.

“So!” Carina says cheerfully as she wanders back into the kitchen.  “Other than fucking off work, how was your morning?”

Nebula snorts.  “Boring.  Also, it’s funny to hear you swear like a real person.”

“As opposed to swearing like… what, exactly?  A hologram?  A cartoon?”

“Not at all,” replies Nebula.  “I thought for a while you had just wandered out of a kids’ show or something where the worst thing you can say is ‘gosh darn it.’”  She puts an artificial brightness into the words.

“I promise I’m capable of saying all manner of foul things,” Carina returns, using that same sort of tone.  “I just don’t feel as compelled to do as you seem to.”

“Pity. It’s pretty funny.”  Nebula grins.  “But yeah, this is the most interesting part of my day so far.”

“I might be flattered by that,” says Carina, “but I still want to know at least part of what I’m more interesting than.  For comparison.”

“I dunno.  Stuff.  Talking to people.  I like talking to you, you don’t make me want to shove an ice pick through my forehead.”

“Good.”  With that, Carina takes the sandwiches out of the panini maker and arranges them on plates.  “I would be very sad if you had an ice pick shoved anywhere.  Drink?  That isn’t beer?”

“Nah.”  After a moment Nebula says, “Thanks.  For the food, I mean.”

Carina hums her “you’re welcome,” then brings said food over.  She notices that Nebula didn’t acknowledge her quasi-affection, but that’s nothing new so she doesn’t remark on it.  “Did you have a particular episode of your show in mind?” she asks.

“Whatever one’s next,” says Nebula.  They’ve gotten into a bit of a rhythm now - Nebula will come over, crash on the couch, and they’ll watch two or three episodes.  The show doesn’t actually have any continuity, but it’s easier this way.

They start an episode and move so that Nebula is essentially draped over Carina, as usual.  Nebula practically swallows her sandwich whole, and then nuzzles into Carina in a way that would definitely confuse anyone else who knew her, if they were watching.  Carina reaches to stroke her hair.  She’s the only one who’s allowed to.

“Well,” Carina muses, “I’m glad that your day has been boring and not outright bad.  And I’m glad to make it better.”

“Yeah, you do.”  Nebula does her best to sound nonchalant, but she means it.

This, of course, makes Carina smile.  And it makes her feel impossibly proud, not that she’s going to mention that either.  “Have you decided what you’re adding to your sleeve next?” she asks instead, reaching to pet Nebula’s arm very lightly.

“The rest of the outline,” replies Nebula.  “Drax could’ve done it all in one go, but Gamora made me do half and then wait.  As if I haven’t been planning this for years.”  She rolls her eyes.  “Most of the cool shit’ll be on my upper arm anyway, the motor and stuff, but still.”

“I’m sure she just wants to make certain that _you’re_ certain,” Carina hesitates.

“Yeah, but it’s annoying as fuck. _She’s_ got her entire back covered.  And I know she started that as soon as we moved out, so she was barely eighteen.”

Carina shrugs.  “Well, she doubtlessly means well,” she says, because that’s her response to any of Nebula’s complaints about her sister.

“Yeah.  At least I got the Real Helldivers out of therapy.  And you.”  Nebula casually grabs Carina’s hand.

“I’m still not sure why we let you name the band,” Carina deadpans.

“Because none of you losers came up with a better name,” says Nebula with a grin.

“Or maybe us losers were just feeling gracious that day and before we came to our senses it stuck,” teases Carina.

“Whatever,” Nebula replies good-naturedly.  “Too late now.”

On the TV, the episode finishes and they’re most of the way through another one when Nebula asks, “Did you wanna leave for work soon?”

Carina glances at the clock.  “Soon enough,” she decides.  “Not immediately.”

“Cool.  Wanna make out?”

That causes Carina to burst out laughing, but in the fondest way possible.  “I could be persuaded,” she murmurs in a tone that means she already has been.

Nebula smirks and pulls her down for a kiss.  It’s affectionate but not particularly frenzied; they both like kissing, but it won’t go farther than that and neither of them want it to.

This keeps up for a while before, in a sudden burst of worry, Carina exclaims, “We really ought to get going.”

“Yeah, Hot Topic is really concerned with timeliness and professionalism,” snarks Nebula.

“Of course they are!” Carina says.  ‘It’s a business like any other, isn’t it?  Just because some of my coworkers aren’t doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try to be.”

“You’re adorable when you’re all goody-goody,” teases Nebula.  “But I guess I better report back before Gamora calls the cops or some shit.”

“I guess,” Carina agrees, exaggerating the words.  “Come on, it can’t be that bad.”

Nebula shrugs.  “It’s not.  But don’t tell _them_ that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Occurs sometime around [a tongue like yours should be burned and branded](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/5870252).


	3. now you’re here in front of me and the future’s open ended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Skye wakes up from the science department Christmas party with a killer hangover, Jemma takes care of her; Skye returns the favor, then shares some big news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Directly follows [a place you can stand for one night and get gone](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/6227060).

“Skye, sweetheart? Where are your keys?”

Skye fumbles through her pockets and, after producing more trash than Jemma thinks is technically possible for one person to be carrying in a pair of jeans, pulls them out. “They’re heavy,” she giggles. “You do it!”

Jemma sighs and resists the urge to ruffle Skye’s hair. “Of course,” she says soothingly, taking Skye’s keys, turning them in the lock, and pushing the door open. Then she reaches for Skye’s hand to pull her inside, gentle as she can.

Skye’s still moving, still upright, but she’s - well, _floppy_ is probably the best word. Her arms are slack at her sides and she’s swaying like a blade of grass on a breezy day. She smiles at Jemma in a goofy sleepy sort of way and says, “Oh my god, you’re so pretty.”

Jemma blinks, not because it’s an unusual compliment but because it’s a complete non sequitur right now. “Thank you, darling,” she murmurs, moving Skye toward the sagging couch and sitting her down. “First order of business, I’m going to prepare some food for you, and this is non-negotiable. Preferably something starchy. Any requests?”

“Popcorn!”

“Popcorn it is,” Jemma says jovially, rummaging in the cabinet for a bag of microwave popcorn. Once it’s cooking, she fills a glass of water and brings it to Skye, shoving it at her insistently.

Skye downs half of it immediately and then looks up at Jemma, eyes bright. “Kisses?”

Jemma thinks about this a minute, musing, “You are asking very nicely, but I don’t think it’s nicely enough yet. You always make me say please.”

“Pleeeeeease?” Skye pouts and wibbles her lip a little. It’s ridiculous, but it’s likely the effects of the alcohol more than anything.

“Oh, I can’t have you so sad,” Jemma exclaims, frowning dramatically in response. “Fine. Three minutes of kisses until the popcorn’s done.” She clambers onto the couch, sitting on her knees beside Skye and leaning in to kiss her throat.

Skye whimpers happily. “Thaaaaaaaank you, honey.”

“Mm, of course,” Jemma whispers, focusing her attentions at the spot where Skye’s jaw and neck meet. Given her position, one of her arms is propping her up and reaching over Skye’s lap, while the other is looped around Skye’s shoulders.

Arching into Jemma’s kisses, Skye makes happy little noises whenever Jemma touches her, more so than usual. “Feels so good,” she murmurs. “You’re so good.”

Jemma absolutely preens at that praise, humming contentedly against Skye’s skin. “I want to be,” she says. “I want to take very good care of you.”

“You dooooo,” groans Skye, drawing the word out lazily. “Love you.”

“I love -” And, of course, she’s interrupted by a loud beeping, so despite Skye’s protests she disentangles herself and goes to get the popcorn out of the microwave. “I love you too. Now I want you to eat this, all right?”

“Rather eat somethin’ else,” mumbles Skye with a grin, but she obediently takes the bag and wrestles with it for a few moments before whining, “I can’t open it!”

“Silly me,” Jemma chirps, reaching and ripping the bag open efficiently. “Better?”

“Yay!” Skye grabs the bag and shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Thanks!” she says around it. “Snuggles?” It comes out more like “ _snggufs_?”

Jemma shakes her head, but she moves in to oblige, tangling a hand in Skye’s hair and carefully petting/combing out any tangles the night might have put in it. “You’re feeling much better,” she observes.

“Yeah,” mumbles Skye, leaning back against her. “You took good care of me... _Dr_. Simmons.”

That earns a laugh, one that’s muffled against Skye’s shoulder. “Well, I’m glad you think so,” she says. “I had a rather vested interest in you not doing anything you’d regret too much.”

“Those shots were _awesome_ , though! I wanna make ‘em for one of our parties sometime. ‘s that okay?”

“Maybe if I help,” Jemma concedes, though what that means is she’ll figure out the least alcoholic way to make them. “Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?”

“Mmmmmm…” Skye hums to herself as she ponders, a handful of popcorn stalled halfway to her mouth. “Wash m’hair maybe?”

Very softly, Jemma says, “Once you’ve finished your snack.”

“Okay!” says Skye cheerfully, munching on the popcorn. She nestles against Jemma and tips her head back a little in response to Jemma’s hand in her hair.

“I must say, you’re being very agreeable,” Jemma giggles. “Not nearly as stubborn as sometimes.”

“‘M happy,” says Skye around another mouthful of popcorn. She swallows it and adds, “‘M not _that_ stubborn.”

“Sometimes, you’re that stubborn,” Jemma says. “I don’t mind, though, it’s cute. Mostly. You’re very determined about everything else, so it makes sense.”

Skye practically purrs. “Thank yoooooouuuuu.”

“Thank you,” Jemma counters. “For coming tonight and everything.”

“Was nice. I met your friends! I like that Hiro kid, even though he’s a pain in the ass. But I’m kinda a pain in the ass too, so ‘sfine.”

“Well, still.” Jemma pauses to adjust her position, holding Skye closer. “I like being able to take you places and show you off.”

“I like showin’ you off too. You’re so pretty and smart and you make me happy. You’re amazing.”

“Thank you,” Jemma says again. “You’re sweet. And you’re nearly done, so start thinking about how you want me to do your hair.”

 

* * *

  

“...and I get that it’s s’posed to be a crossguard but I feel like if I tried to use one of those I’d chop off my arm, y’know? Unless the Jedi got more coordinated in the thirty years since Episode Six, but I kinda doubt it. Also if they really got rid of the _Millenium Falcon_ I’m gonna punch a baby.”

Jemma sighs dramatically, massaging shampoo into Skye’s hair in what she hopes is an attempt at calming. “You won’t actually punch a baby,” she says. “For one, where are you going to get a baby to punch? Really.”

“Dunno. I’ll find one! I’ll...put an ad out. I dunno. It’s important! He’s not Han Solo without the _Falcon_!”

“You’re very passionate about this,” Jemma points out.

“It’s important!” insists Skye. “ _Star Wars_ is...is the biggest thing ever!”

“It really isn’t,” Jemma sighs playfully, “but I understand its cultural significance, anyway. I think this must be how you feel when you get caught listening to me go on about scientific theory.”

“You’re hot when you go on about scientific theory,” says Skye. “Except when I forget to listen. Can I have a kiss?” She tilts her chin up hopefully.

“Mm, well, I’m glad you think it’s hot at least sometimes,” teases Jemma. “I’ll be glad to kiss you, though. You taste a little less like alcohol by now.” She leans to kiss Skye, though it’s not so much making out as an affectionate little peck.

Skye practically squeaks. “Thaaaaaanks. Your hands feel nice.”

“You’re not always this lovey when you’re drunk,” Jemma muses, pulling back to work on Skye’s hair once more.

“Well I feel like it,” says Skye, grinning lazily. “I feel...warm. Safe.”

Jemma’s smile softens. “I’m glad,” she declares. “And very flattered, I must say.”

Skye closes her eyes and nuzzles back against Jemma’s hands. “Thanks for taking care of me, Jem.”

“Of course,” Jemma whispers. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” murmurs Skye, seeming to be heading towards nodding off.

Which Jemma notices, not with particular surprise, and which makes her smile. “All right, darling, I think it’s time to finish up here,” she says. “Could you move forward so you’re underneath the shower head?” She doesn’t want to ask Skye to stand up, so this will have to do.

Skye makes a little whining noise but does as she asks, scooting forward so that her hair gets wet.

From there, it doesn’t take much effort to rinse Skye’s hair appropriately, and Jemma murmurs happy praising nonsense sounds the whole time. It’s not, she thinks, entirely unlike babysitting, except for that it totally is and that’s a really disturbing comparison if she delves into it at all, so probably it’s more like she’s doing Skye’s hair for some fancy official something and not just because she’s to the mellow-drunk stage.

Moving her head around as directed, Skye’s making happy sounds in her throat, basically purring. “‘S nice,” she murmurs.

“Good,” Jemma says, reaching to turn the water off. “Then you’ll like it when I dry your hair, too?”

“Pleeeeeease?”

Jemma giggles, reaching for Skye’s hand (if she was stronger and/or more dashing, she’d carry Skye into the bedroom where the hair dryer lives, but she can barely carry Skye’s backpack, let alone Skye herself) and lifting Skye to her feet. “You’re cute,” she murmurs.

 

* * *

 

The first sensation Skye’s aware of the next morning is the feeling of Jemma’s warm body next to hers. The next is the pounding behind her temples. “Oh god,” she groans. “How much did I drink last night?

“I wasn’t keeping track of your regular drinks, but you did enter the shots contest,” Jemma says without opening her eyes. It’s almost like she’d been expecting to need to answer that.

“Oh yeah. Why did I do that? God, I’m a moron.” Skye shuts her eyes again. “I’m pretty sure the pounding in my head is the tempo from that one Slipknot song.”

“Poor love,” Jemma declares. “But it probably seemed like a better idea last night. Though I will say I tried to warn you against it.”

Skye sighs pathetically. “Next time bodycheck me out of the way or something, please. That was the worst idea ever.”

“Can I get that recorded?” Jemma teases. “Just so you can’t complain if I do?”

“Ha ha.” Burrowing her head into the pillow, Skye mumbles, “Can you get me some water? Or drugs? Or something to make this pounding stop?”

“Water, drugs, and breakfast coming up,” Jemma says. “You stay in bed, I’ll get you when it’s ready.”

And after an appropriate interval, that’s exactly what she does. The kitchen doesn’t even smell like she’s burned anything (Trip’s cooking lessons are apparently paying off) and what’s more, Jemma’s playing hostess in some twee negligee that she may or may not have been wearing a minute ago (even though it’s Skye’s kitchen).

Skye can’t help but chuckle, even though that doesn’t do anything to help lessen her headache. “Look at you, being all cute and domestic. It’s kinda hot.” She lies there feeling pitiful while she waits for Jemma to come back, and once her girlfriend leads her gently out into the kitchen, she sees a row of pills lined up neatly next to the requested glass of water, as well as a plateful of food. “Thank you,” she says softly, flopping into a chair.

“It’s nothing,” Jemma assures, sitting beside Skye and bumping her foot. “There’s paracetamol there as well as some multivitamins, and plenty of food to help you restore your system, too.”

Skye immediately downs the pills, along with half of the water, and then starts on the toast. “You’re amazing. How the fuck did I deserve you?”

“That, darling, is a mystery, but questionable desires to enter drinking contests with an over-six-foot-tall former frat boy and possibly the entire state’s biggest partier aside, I wonder the same about you,” Jemma declares archly, sipping at her own glass daintily.

“Yeah, but you like...washed my hair and put me to bed and made me breakfast. You’re the best.” Skye rests her forehead on her hand - the pounding is starting to calm down a little, maybe.

“Mmm, thank you,” Jemma says gently, reaching to rub Skye’s shoulders. “I figure it’s my fault for dragging you to that extravaganza, and besides, I don’t like it when you don’t feel well. That means I’ll do everything in my power to remedy that.”

Humming happily as Jemma touches her, Skye says, “Yeah, but it was my own damn fault, I guess. Point is, you’re amazing and I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jemma smiles. “Now finish eating so we can get to the rest of the day’s events.”

“Events?” Skye can’t help but groan. “Do they involve lying on the couch watching terrible shit on Netflix? Because otherwise I can’t help you.”

“They do,” Jemma murmurs. “And cuddling and perhaps kissing if you feel up for it.”

That makes Skye sigh in relief. “Awesome.”

 

* * *

 

They’ve been cuddling for a while, watching various low-budget sci-fi movies including _Super Cyclone_ \- “Don’t you think the main girl kind of looks like May?” “Skye, that’s not appropriate!” “It’s not just because she’s _Asian_ , god!” - when Skye lifts up her head from where it’s pillowed on Jemma’s chest to kiss her deeply.

“Oh,” Jemma exclaims, immediately threading fingers through Skye’s hair. “Hello, then!”

“Hi,” says Skye playfully, kissing her again. “So...I’m feeling a lot better.”

“Oh,” Jemma repeats. This time her tone is significantly more devious. “ _Are_ you. What exactly does that entail?”

‘I dunno,” Skye says while letting her hand wander beneath Jemma’s negligee. “Something like...this.” She gives one of Jemma’s breasts a squeeze.

Jemma whimpers, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “I admit that’s not what _I_ was thinking about during a movie about extreme meteorological disasters, but it’s certainly nothing I’ll ever complain about.”

“Good.” Skye grins and nuzzles Jemma’s breast through the fabric. “So how about you start thinking about it?”

“I can pretty well guarantee that, if you keep on teasing me,” Jemma whispers.

Moving her attentions to Jemma’s neck, Skye nips and kisses the skin there, making Jemma squeal. “How’s this working for you?” she asks, smirking.

“Pretty good,” Jemma says, trying to act like she’s still got it together a little while longer.

Skye’s response to that is to suck at Jemma’s neck particularly hard, enjoying the bruise that causes. “Oops,” she giggles. “Guess you’ll need to cover that up tomorrow. Sorry.” She doesn’t sound the least bit sorry.

“I’ll make do,” Jemma sighs. “But until then I’m going to enjoy it.”

“Good,” murmurs Skye. “Can I take this off? Not that you don’t look super hot in it, but you’d look even hotter without it.”

Jemma nods eagerly. “If you want to, please do.”

Skye reaches down to pull the negligee up, but instead of just taking it off, she goes slowly, revealing a little of Jemma at a time and kissing her thoroughly as she goes. She starts, of course, with Jemma’s upper thighs and hips, and Jemma whimpers. But Skye doesn’t even touch her panties, instead continuing to press kisses to Jemma’s stomach.

Jemma huffs out a breath, smiling down at Skye. “Taking it slow, I see.”

“Does that bother you?” asks Skye with a playful grin, punctuating her question with another kiss.

“No,” Jemma murmurs, “I just felt like noting it.”

“Good.” Skye scrapes her teeth over Jemma’s skin before moving up to nip at one of her breasts, which she uncovers slowly.

“Hhh- _hi_ ,” Jemma pants out when Skye’s teeth find her. “That’s… that’s nice.”

Skye chuckles, teasing Jemma’s nipple. “Like that?” she murmurs around it.

Jemma nods. “Just like,” she agrees. “You know I like when you do that.”

Humming, Skye sucks on it for a while, reaching up to tease the other one with her hand. The negligee is now sort of bunched up around Jemma’s shoulders, and she knows she’s going to have to stop at least long enough to pull it over Jemma’s head, but she’s enjoying herself too much at the moment.

“Skye…” It’s said in the tone that could either be begging her to continue or threatening that if she doesn’t Jemma’s going to scream, and that’s open to interpretation.

“Getting a little impatient there, huh?”

Jemma scrunches up her nose, but she nods. “A little,” she mumbles like she’s embarrassed about it.

“Awww don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” says Skye, pulling the negligee off the rest of the way and then returning to Jemma’s breasts eagerly. She takes her sweet time with them, doing her best to kiss and bite at every inch and playing with the nipples in the way she knows Jemma likes.

Eventually Jemma gives up trying to stay entirely upright, flopping against the couch with a little conciliatory whimper. “I know,” she whispers. “You always do.”

“I love you,” Skye says just before biting her particularly hard.

“Love you too,” Jemma replies before she grabs onto Skye’s shoulder in an effort to anchor herself. “Are you going to tease me all bloody day?” The words come out softer and needier than she perhaps means them to.

“Not _all_ day,” giggles Skye, kissing her on the lips.

“Don’t be mean,” Jemma pleads. “Wasn’t I a perfect angel to you last night?”

Skye makes an exaggerated thinking face. “That’s true, you were. You were so good to me. And good girls deserve rewards.” She starts kissing her way back down Jemma’s body, finally pressing a kiss to her panties before grinning up at Jemma.

Jemma keens. There are, after all, hardly any ways to successfully work her up better than that. “I like your rewards,” she manages.

“Oh good,” Skye says playfully, before reaching for Jemma’s panties. “Want me to take these off?”

Jemma nods very enthusiastically.

Before she does, Skye kisses her through them one last time, enjoying the noise Jemma makes. Then she tugs them off, leaving Jemma naked, and just gazes at her for a moment. “God, you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Jemma says softly, biting her lip as she watches Skye watching her.

Skye kisses up her thighs for a few moments before properly mouthing at Jemma’s center. She moans a little - she can’t help it, Jemma tastes amazing - and starts to tease at Jemma’s clit with her tongue.

“Thank you,” Jemma repeats, pushing her hips toward Skye’s mouth as gently as she can manage. By now one of her hands is gripping the back of the couch, and the other is resting at the back of Skye’s neck.

Eagerly Skye makes her strokes a little rougher, getting down to business now. But just when it seems like Jemma’s enjoying it, she pulls back, slowly kissing and licking down Jemma’s thigh.

“Hey,” Jemma whines, and there’s no mistaking her impatience now.

“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” murmurs Skye, nipping at Jemma’s thigh.

“M’not worried, just…” Jemma shrugs helplessly. Desperate is the word, but she won’t admit it openly.

“I’ve got you, promise.” Finally Skye works her way back up to suck at Jemma’s clit. She knows she’s being a little bit mean, but she also knows it’ll make the orgasm better for Jemma. Plus, it’s fun working her up.

Jemma sighs, because while this is infuriating it’s the fun kind of infuriating and she does know that, she trusts Skye completely. Instead of saying anything, she spreads her legs just a bit wider, tries to hide the way her legs have started to shake with need.

Skye grins, taking advantage of this to kiss and lick at Jemma more firmly. She rests her hands on the outside of Jemma’s thighs and yep, she can definitely feel them shaking. It’s cute how Jemma’s trying to hide it though, so she doesn’t comment.

Jemma sinks even more into the couch, trying to brace herself in some way. “Please?” she asks as sweetly as she can.

“Of course, honey,” murmurs Skye, slipping her tongue inside Jemma while she uses one hand to play with her clit.

“Oh, oh, can I… may I please?” Jemma asks breathily, because sometimes she likes to be told.

“You may.”

With a moan that’s equal parts relieved and ecstatic, Jemma comes. After that initial sound, she starts worrying that she might be loud enough to bother Skye’s neighbors, so she promptly claps a hand over her mouth and doesn’t let go until she’s good and truly done.

And as much as Skye loves the noises Jemma makes, she knows that was probably a good idea. She gently mouths at Jemma as Jemma’s body calms, only stopping once she’s well and truly done. Then she moves up to press a kiss to Jemma’s lips. “How was that?”

“Good,” Jemma says shakily, taking a deep breath before she corrects, “Very good. Perfect.”

Skye nuzzles Jemma’s thigh. “You deserve perfection.”

 

* * *

 

“So, Fitz’s mum invited us for proper Christmas.”

Skye was starting to doze off, but Jemma’s comment snaps her awake instantly. Earlier Jemma had offered to reciprocate, but Skye, though initially eager, had told her to wait until later (“I don’t think hangover-plus-orgasm is so good for the head, if y’know what I mean”) and so they’d gone back to cuddling, this time with Skye nestling against Jemma. That had been maybe half an hour ago, she’d lost track of time.

“Oh?” She’s not really sure how to take that statement. She’s heard about Fitz’s mom, but not met her - or Jemma’s parents, for that matter. But from what she’s heard, Fitz’s mom is basically Jemma’s third parent.

“Yes,” Jemma nods. “I might have already said yes, because Fitz was giving me this look like if he had to suffer bringing his boyfriend over I had better be there to deflect some of the embarrassing whatnot, but I could probably back out if I had to? Or I could just say you had something, or…”

“No, no, I wanna! It sounds nice.” Skye smiles. “I’ve never really had that...traditional Christmas, y’know? I mean some of the foster families did stuff, but I was always that awkward fifth wheel or whatever.” She’s not saying that for pity, just as a statement of fact.

Jemma nods, resisting the urge to offer sympathy. “Well, I promise I’ll try to make it as nice as possible,” she declares. “And Fitz’s mum won’t be weird. She’s really very cool about things.”

“Oh I’m sure! Yeah, that’ll be nice.” Skye’s quiet for a moment, and then she gathers all her courage and says the thing that’s been lurking in the back of her mind for days, the thing that she needs to tell Jemma about but she just hasn’t because how do you talk about something like this? “So...speaking of moms...mine found me. I guess.”

“Your… birth mom?” Jemma asks in a whisper. Even though who else would Skye be talking about? She’s just not sure what else to say.

“Yeah. I guess so.” Skye’s not sure what to say either; it’s all so weird and new and she hasn’t thought about this since she was little, like _really_ little. “This woman, she emailed me...her name’s Jiaying Shao, and she says she’s my birthmom. I guess I was born in China and my legal, birthname is Daisy Zabo-”

“... _Zabo_? That doesn’t even sound like a real surname,” Jemma mutters before collecting herself. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude.”

Skye laughs. “No, I know, right? I almost deleted the email, but she included a scan of the birth certificate and it seemed pretty legit. Also I’m a pretty random person to trick, y’know? It’s not like I’m a popstar or anything. I can’t imagine who would care enough to search me out, unless they were telling the truth.”

“Right,” Jemma muses. “What did she… what did she want, I guess?”

“I think she just wants to talk to me. She said she’s been...hiding for years. Apparently my dad’s a real piece of work, or was, anyway. They met in China and got married like six months later, and when I came along they were happy for a while. And then...I guess my dad had anger issues and stuff, and she didn’t feel safe, so she peaced out and tried to take me with her but he threw a shitfit - he’s also who I have to thank for my shitty birthname, apparently - and ran off to the US with me. And sometime in there she lost track of him and he had to give me up and I ended up in foster care. She says she doesn’t know how that happened but she can’t find any records of him from before like, 1985, so she’s pretty sure he’s dead. And she was too scared of him to search for me for a long time. Also apparently adoption records from the 80s are horrible.”

“Oh.” In that idle way that means she completely knows what she’s doing but is pretending like it’s casual, she starts combing her fingers through Skye’s hair. She’s a little overwhelmed with all of this information, which means she can only imagine how Skye feels, so she manages to ask, “Are you… are you doing okay?”

Skye shrugs as best she can. “I dunno. Kinda just processing everything, I guess. I spent all those years just assuming whoever my parents were, they didn’t want me, you know? And now I find out...she did. She still does. She asked if I’d consider meeting up with her to talk. It’s weird.”

“Do you want to?” Jemma asks faintly.

“I...maybe. I dunno. She says she’s in California but she can fly out and meet us. I guess she immigrated here and now she runs an organization for domestic abuse victims. She’s pretty successful. So I guess Dad is pretty well dead or he’d have come after her.” Skye laughs, but like it’s not actually funny. “I haven’t replied to the email yet. I...wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”

Impulsively, Jemma pulls Skye close enough to kiss - though just on the cheek, she doesn’t want to overstep. She’s not _exactly_ trying to lighten the mood when she says, “So you thought after sex was the right time?” But once she’s said it, it’s done, so there’s not much she can do to recant it.

“Hey, _you_ brought up Fitz’s mom! It was relevant!” Skye pokes Jemma’s arm playfully. Then she looks uncertain. “If...if I did wanna meet her, would you come with me? I don’t know if I could do it alone.”

Jemma shrugs, giggling a bit. “I suppose that’s true,” she agrees. A moment passes, one that she uses to make sure she’s as serious as she means to be in her reply. “Of course, darling. I’ll go if you want me to and not go if you want me to and I’ll do exactly what you need for me to do, no matter what.”

“Thank you.” Skye’s voice is very small. She nuzzles against Jemma and is quiet for a moment, then she whispers, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jemma returns. “That’s no matter what, too.”

Skye gives a kind of shuddery sigh and leans up to kiss her. “You’re amazing, Jem.”

“So are you,” Jemma says against Skye’s skin. “Not to be a copycat or anything, but it’s true.”

Chuckling, Skye murmurs, “I know what you mean. Thanks.” Then she adds in a more upbeat tone, “Hey, so wanna watch _Spiders 3D_? I bet the 3D is incredible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Super Cyclone_ is a real film starring Ming-Na Wen available on US Netflix at the time this fic was posted. She acts nothing like Melinda.


	4. no sin or shame's gonna strain my soul, oh no

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Sharon have a discussion about polyamory and how Sharon could fit into that. Sharon is more than receptive, and in fact feels that Natasha is going a bit slowly for her tastes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit back; takes place between [hey soldier, I'm missing your life, wish I could hold ya and make it alright](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/5251001) and [let's call our shadow selves out for the evening](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/5337146).

“You’re quiet.”

Natasha glances over at Sharon, who hasn’t said much in the last five minutes’ worth of driving.  It might just be nerves, but Natasha had hoped that maybe after a few times hanging out with all of them, Sharon’s starting to feel more comfortable.  At least, she hadn’t objected when Natasha had offered to drive her home from movie night.

“I’m connecting some things,” Sharon says.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.”  Natasha makes sure to keep her voice gentle as she says, “If we’re making you uncomfortable or anything, please don’t feel pressured into coming to hang out with all of us.  We like you, but we don’t want you to feel like we’re making you do anything.”

Sharon raises an eyebrow, but she doesn’t make eye contact yet.  “I don’t think anyone has talked to me about _feeling pressured into doing things_ since high school.”

That makes Natasha chuckle.  “So we’re the bad kids trying to get you to smoke weed?”  She adds, “I just want to make sure you’re feeling okay about everything.”

“No,” Sharon retorts, playfully petulant.  “It’s just not a thing you hear as much when you get older.  I’m not sure why that is.  It’s not a bad thing, it’s just different.  But that’s sort of what I’m connecting.  Why you feel compelled to ask me if I feel pressured into hanging out.  That’s not entirely what’s going on, is it?”

Natasha shakes her head, just slightly.  “Not...quite, no.  You said you were connecting some things earlier, does it have something to do with this?  I’m curious how much you think you’ve figured out.”

 “You’re auditioning me,” Sharon says plainly.

 “That’s an interesting way of putting it,” says Natasha with a wry smile.  “Auditioning for what, exactly?”

 “Well, this is the part where I’m a little bit fuzzy,” Sharon admits.  “At least one of you wants to get me in bed, and some of you are already in bed with each other.  There’s overlap, but I’m not entirely sure which of you falls into which category.”

 “Not bad.  Though, truth be told, we all fall into both categories.”  Glancing at Sharon again to make sure she’s still on board and not freaked out, Natasha continues, “We’re sort of...a unit.  Some of us are sleeping together at different times, depending on what everyone feels like.  We have an arrangement that works for all four of us.”

To her credit, Sharon looks more intrigued than surprised.  “So it’s that simple?” she asks.

Natasha laughs again.  “Insomuch as a relationship with four people in it can be, yes.  Of course there are days where they all drive me crazy - if you think being in a relationship with one man is hard, try three - but I love them.  They love me.  We make it work.”

“Okay, please don’t find me ignorant for asking, but did it just sort of happen?  Or did you all audition each other one by one?”

“Oh, that’s not ignorant.  It’s sort of a long story.”  Natasha taps her fingers on the steering wheel for a moment, trying to decide how to begin.  Finally she says, “Steve and James were close when they were younger, as you know.  It was really sweet, first love and all that.  They drifted apart when James got sent to that awful school, but I don’t think Steve ever stopped loving him for all those years.  He, uh, he has a complex about not giving up on people.”  She smiles as if sharing a private joke with herself.  “I was born in Volgograd, Russia.”

 “Seriously?” Sharon asks, then immediately feeling idiotic about it.  “You, ah.  You did a really good job of losing the accent.”  Immediately she cringes like she hopes to hell she hasn’t said something idiotic, but she’s just better when she knows all of the details.

 Natasha giggles.  “It’s not that hard.  It comes out more when I speak Russian.”  Then she continues, more seriously, “I did not have a happy childhood, and I came here when I was nineteen to try and have a better life.  That...didn’t happen right away, and I met James while he was still involved with Hydra.  That wasn’t a good time for either of us, but we needed each other.  Eventually it got to be too much for me and I had to end it, though.  I’m not proud of that.”

 Sharon chews her lip, just praying she’s not reading the moment wrong, before laying her hand on top of Natasha’s briefly, comfortingly.

Glancing down at their hands, Natasha smiles at Sharon and continues, “Shortly after that, I got the Gap job, which was supposed to be temporary...so much for that.  I met Steve and we became friends, or something like it.”  She pauses, swallows.  Her voice starts to shake a little.  “About six months later James called me one night, begging me for help getting out of Hydra.  He was in the hospital, using someone else’s phone - he’d been shot.  I wanted to go to him but he said no, he needed to meet me somewhere later and come up with a plan.  I...I’m not the right kind of person for that, so I called Steve the next day and asked if he could help me.  I figured if anyone could do something, it’d be all-American Boy Scout Steve Rogers.”

Some of this is a retread, of course; some of this is what they told Sharon that first game night.  But this is Natasha’s version of the story, and that makes it infinitely more personal.  It occurs to her that it’s very likely that she’s one of only a handful of people who have heard this, and she feels incredibly honored in a very strange way.

 “I met up with Steve first, to explain the situation.  He was willing to help, of course, but when we went to meet James and Steve saw who needed our help I thought Steve was going to faint.  I didn’t know about their history, but I could’ve guessed just from the look on Steve’s face.  We managed to get James out, though it was a close call.  Steve got him to rehab, got him on the right track.  At some point they got back together.  I’m not really sure at what point I started joining in.”  She smirks.  “Sam came to the Gap a little while after we’d settled into our weird little unit, and Steve invited him to go running in the mornings.  And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Steve’s very charming.”

 “He is,” Sharon agrees with a playful little smile.  “And he’s pretty easy on the eyes, too.”

 Laughing, Natasha nods.  “He is that.  So that’s us, and our weird relationship.  You haven’t jumped screaming from the car, so I’m guessing that’s a good sign.”

 Sharon’s smile grows, not only in size but in deviousness.  “When I was growing up, I had my parents, and they were great, but I also had my Aunt Peggy,” she says.  “And Aunt Peggy had her husband… but Aunt Peggy also had her Angie.”

 “Oh?”  Natasha raises an eyebrow.

 “For a while I just thought that they were best friends,” Sharon continues.  “In that way that you see in movies sometimes, where the best lady friends are basically soulmates.  But once I started noticing things, let’s say, it didn’t take long to realize that ‘friends’ was only a part of it.”

 “Ah.”  Amused, Natasha smiles.  “Love takes many forms.  So...again, are you okay with all of this?”

 "Yeah,” Sharon says.  “Yeah, I really am.  One more silly question, though?”

 “Of course.”

 “Whose idea was I?”  She has her suspicions, but she wants to know for sure.

 There’s a beat before Natasha says, “Well, when you first started at the mall Steve said something along the lines of ‘that girl Sharon in Charlotte Russe is cute’ and I said ‘Steve, you already have _two_ boyfriends, let me try for her first.  Fair’s fair.’”

 

* * *

 

A week later, Natasha’s invited Sharon out for dinner and they’re sitting in one of the local restaurants that’s classier than Applebee’s, but still somewhat affordable.

“I’m kind of impressed that you’re wining and dining me even though I’ve already said yes to this whole thing,” Sharon quips.

“Hey, when I woo someone, I do it with style,” replies Natasha with a grin.

“Clearly,” Sharon murmurs.  “Is the fact that you called dibs on me first significant?”

Natasha takes a sip of wine before answering.  “Well, first of all, Steve was right - you _are_ very cute.  And clever, and charming.  You intrigue me.”

“High compliment, coming from you,” Sharon says.  “Regardless of what anyone else knows about the whole arrangement, I can think of a few who are going to be wildly jealous that I’ve drawn your _attention.”_

 Chuckling, Natasha replies, “As they should be.  Though I happen to consider myself quite lucky.  Pretty girl like yourself, probably has no shortage of people wanting to spend time with you.”

 “I get a fair amount of attention,” Sharon says loftily.

 “Well, I’m glad to have you all to myself for the evening.”  Reaching across the table, Natasha rests her hand on top of Sharon’s.  “We could take this somewhere else, if you’d like?”

 Sharon’s eyes light up.  “I would very much like,” she says.  “Have a suggestion?”

 “My place is only about ten minutes away, if that’s not too much for you.”

 “It definitely isn’t.”

 

* * *

 

They’re on Natasha’s couch, kissing slowly and gently, when Sharon pulls back and gasps, “Are you worried about breaking me?”

The question takes Natasha by surprise, and she laughs.  “No.  Why do you ask?”

“You’re going so slow,” Sharon says (almost whines).

“ _Oh_.  Well, if you’d like me to go faster I can-” starts Natasha teasingly.

“Yes, please,” Sharon exclaims.  With someone else, she’d just go ahead and set the pace herself, but with Natasha, especially given the nature of the situation, she doesn’t feel like that’s the thing to do just yet.

“All right, then,” Natasha murmurs before kissing her more firmly and letting her hands stray under Sharon’s blouse.

Sharon hums happily, arching into Natasha’s touches.  “You know,” she whispers, “you can use fingernails if you want to."

“Noted,” says Natasha, her voice slightly deeper as she runs her fingers experimentally down Sharon’s sides while nibbling at her bottom lip.

“You can point me in the right direction for you, too,” Sharon declares.  “I want this to be just as nice for you as it is for me.”

Natasha huffs, amused.  “This is pretty much guaranteed to be nice for me, but thank you.  I wouldn’t mind your hands in my hair.”  She kisses Sharon deeply for a long moment, then starts kissing under her jaw while scraping her gently with her nails.

“I’m an overachiever,” Sharon says, and while one of her hands stays holding Natasha’s waist for balance, the other drifts into Natasha’s hair as requested.

Practically purring, Natasha gives her neck a quick nip before beginning to kiss it.

Sharon hums, rolling her hips.  “You mind if I get on your lap?” she murmurs.

“Please!”  Natasha shifts in order to make it easier for Sharon to rearrange herself.

“You have really good manners,” Sharon observes as she sits herself across Natasha’s lap.

Natasha snorts, wrapping her arms around Sharon’s waist.  “This is me being polite on purpose.  Get me around Clint or James, we’re no better than frat boys.”

“Well, it’s pretty on you,” Sharon shrugs, pressing against Natasha.  “But I bet the other is sort of funny, too.”

“Oh, you’ll see it eventually, I’m sure.  Sam tries to civilize us, but when I’m over at Clint’s all hell breaks loose.”  As she speaks, Natasha kisses a line down Sharon’s neck to the parts of her collarbone not covered by her blouse.

At that attention, Sharon tips her head back, grinning.  “Sounds hilarious.”

“It probably is.”  Smirking, Natasha adds, “You feel like straddling me?”

“Hell yeah,” Sharon whispers, switching position in no time at all, then gyrating just once to test it out.

That makes Natasha moan appreciatively, just a little.  “Very nice,” she says, running her hands across Sharon’s back under her shirt.  “I think it’s time for this to come off, though.”  She starts playing idly with the bottom of Sharon’s blouse.

“Oh, _is_ it,” Sharon croons, giving a little laugh.  “Only if I get to take yours off, too.”

“Of course.”  Natasha makes quick work of Sharon’s before tossing it onto the floor.  “Have at it.”

With a greedy smile, Sharon tugs at Natasha’s shirt, throwing it on top of her own before pulling back just enough to really marvel at the sight.  “Okay,” she says, “you’re wildly hot.”

“Right back at you.”  Natasha grins, doing a bit of marveling herself.  She runs her hands over Sharon’s sides and stomach slowly, as if savoring the feel of her.

“So are we going to have a secret code or something?”

“Secret code for what?”

“Those times when we don’t feel like sharing,” Sharon whispers, punctuating it with an altogether possessive kiss pressed to the top of Natasha’s breast.

“Ah.  Yes, we can come up with one,” murmurs Natasha, whimpering at the feel of Sharon’s kiss.  “But...not now,” she practically growls before leaning down to mouth at Sharon’s breasts through her bra.

Sharon giggles throatily.  “No, not now,” she agrees.  “Now, we have better things to be doing.  Can I take your pants off?”

“Please,” says Natasha huskily.

In no time at all, they’re both down to their underwear and Sharon is grinning.  “Are we going to take this all the way or just idle around here for a while?  I’m not going to complain about either.”

“If we’re going all the way,” replies Natasha, her tone going slightly sardonic at the last few words, “we should perhaps take this to the actual bed.”

“Good call,” Sharon murmurs, then springing up from the couch and putting a hand on her hip as she waits.

Natasha stands up, offering her hand.  “Follow me,” she says, leading Sharon into her bedroom.  It’s small (the bed takes up most of the room) and not really suited for much else besides sleeping and the activity they’re about to engage in, but Natasha likes small spaces.  They feel safer.

Still, she knows not everyone feels that way.  “Sorry it’s small,” she murmurs.  “Bed’s pretty comfortable, though.”

“Don’t apologize,” Sharon says immediately.  “I like it.  It’s cozy and I want to test out that bed theory.”

“Good.”  Natasha grins and pulls her down so they’re both sitting on the bed.  She kisses Sharon again deeply while reaching around to undo the clasp of her bra.  “I think it’s about time to take this off.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Sharon purrs, tangling a hand in Natasha’s hair.  “That okay?  Doing that?”

“More than,” Natasha basically groans, finally pulling Sharon’s bra off and immediately taking one of her nipples into her mouth.

Sharon squeaks, raking her fingernails across Natasha’s scalp.  “That’s nice too,” she manages.  “Please, keep doing that.”  She’s too blunt to be a good dirty talker, but she gets her point across.

Chuckling, Natasha runs her tongue over Sharon’s nipple, enjoying the whimper that elicits, and starts kneading her other breast with her hand.  It’s just about the right size to hold.

“That’s - yeah,” Sharon murmurs.  “Can I try yours?”

Somewhat reluctantly, Natasha lets her nipple slip out of her mouth and says, “Sure,” sitting up and arching her back.

Sharon makes to unfasten Natasha’s bra as quick as she can, immediately dropping kisses on the bare skin.  “Do you mind if my reaction is _damn_?” she asks, giggling.

“Not at all,” says Natasha with a laugh of her own.  “That’s pretty flattering.”

“Well, good,” Sharon chirps.  “Because, _damn_.  You’re gorgeous.”

Humming, Natasha can’t help but reply, “How about you show me _how_ gorgeous?”

Sharon grins.  “Sure thing,” she says, gently nudging Natasha back against the bed and sliding down her body.  “You mean like this, right?”

“That’ll do,” Natasha murmurs playfully.  Then something occurs to her.  “Er, have you...done this before?”  Not that she cares either way, but if it’s Sharon’s first time with a woman she wants to make sure the other girl’s not left without a clue.

“Not to play on a stereotype,” Sharon begins with a wicked little smirk, “but I _did_ go to an all-girls’ high school.  It was sort of inevitable for me to act on interests occasionally.”

Natasha laughs.  “All right.  Just making sure.  Usually when I sleep with virgins I like to do it for them first, give ‘em an idea of how it’s done.”

“How good of you,” Sharon croons.  She gestures to Natasha’s underwear.  “I’m gonna get these out of the way for you.”

“Please do,” gasps Natasha, moving around as best she can to help with that.

Greedily, Sharon pulls the panties away and drops them to the floor, then presses a kiss to Natasha’s center before there’s any chance to anticipate.  “Tell me what you like,” Sharon mumbles against the flesh.

“You can tease me a little,” says Natasha softly.  “At first.  When I ask for more I want faster and more pressure, and you can bite me some if you want.  I like it pretty rough, if you feel up to it.”  She grins a wolf’s grin.

Sharon groans appreciatively.  “I feel so up to it,” she agrees, and with that she’s leaning in to kiss the juncture of Natasha’s thigh and hip, then bite it.

That makes Natasha groan “ _yes_ ” and buck her hips just slightly in encouragement.

Thus encouraged, Sharon repeats the move, then digs her fingernails into Natasha’s thighs as she shifts slightly to kiss and bite her clitoris.  All the while she’s humming some nonsense song, happy as can be.

Natasha starts to whimper and twitch with every bite.  “Yes, good, that’s so good,” she murmurs.

“Good,” Sharon purrs, running her tongue up and down Natasha’s slit a few times before returning to her clit and really focusing on it a moment.

“More, yes,” gasps Natasha.  She’s not usually so vocal, but considering she hasn’t had sex with a woman in a while, and this is her first time with Sharon, she figures this is probably helpful.

It completely works for Sharon, in fact.  She likes knowing what is and isn’t worth repeating, she likes knowing how she’s doing.  So with that last plea spurring her on, she drags her teeth over Natasha’s bud, then sucks on it as hard as she can manage.

Natasha makes a noise that’s between a gasp and a moan and lets her eyes drift close for a moment.  “God yes, that.  M-more of that.”

“Okay,” Sharon murmurs quickly before giving another, maybe even harder, suck.  “S’tasty.”

“Thanks,” breathes Natasha, sounding smug.

Sharon switches to drawing her fingernails over Natasha’s thighs for a moment while she points out, “I’m not just saying it to say it.  I know people do that.”

“You clearly know the wrong people, if no one’s ever said it to you,” says Natasha, huffing a laugh.

“Not no one,” Sharon replies, smirking.  “But you know the sorts, the ones who only do this to placate you?”

“Oh, let’s don’t bring them up.  We’re having such a nice time,” Natasha says playfully.

Sharon giggles.  She has this way of giggling that’s at odds with her usual take-no-shit, ameliorate-as-many-people-as-possible personality, a way that’s all free and silly.  “Noted,” she murmurs, leaning back down and refocusing her attention.

Natasha groans happily.  “More.”

“More,” Sharon repeats, doing exactly that.  This time she licks over Natasha’s clit while she sucks on it, concentrating very intently.

“Yes, that’s good…”  Sighing, Natasha murmurs, “Y-you can use fingers if you want.”

“I want,” Sharon whispers, and just like that her left hand is gone from Natasha’s leg and tracing patterns over her center.

That makes Natasha whine and rut her hips against the contact.

“Mm, thanks,” Sharon says, rubbing more vigorously.

“Inside?”  Natasha would hate how needy she sounds, except she trusts Sharon to not comment on it.

“Can do,” Sharon exclaims, another giggle following.  She dips one finger, then two, into Natasha, paying careful attention to her reactions.

Which consist mostly of moaning and rocking her hips against Sharon’s fingers.  Natasha doesn’t always need penetration, but tonight it feels right.

Sharon searches for Natasha’s g-spot, adding a third finger when she feels it will be well-received, and all the while intermittently keeps paying attention to her clit.  

As Natasha’s enjoying this (and making all manner of noise to encourage Sharon), somewhere in the back of her mind she notices what Sharon’s doing, and is grateful.  She hasn’t had a good partnered g-spot orgasm in a long time - the boys are sweet and attentive, but all efforts to teach them about this particular trick have failed.  “Thank you,” she pants out, the words coming out more drawn out and potentially porn-sounding than she means them to.

“You’re welcome,” Sharon says.  Some of the fun of this is that here’s usually-reserved, perfectly-poised, mystery-girl Natasha falling apart like a real person (not that she isn’t real, but she has a good way of seeming above such things when she’s in public) and as such, the breathy dialogue is endearing.  

“Little higher?” whines Natasha.  Sharon’s so close to hitting the mark but she figures she might need some help.

Sharon wrinkles her nose in concentration, nods, tries to work higher accordingly.  “Yeah?”

“ _Yes_.  That, more, more of that.”  Natasha’s starting to be a bit incoherent, especially for herself, which means that Sharon really is doing a good job.

Sharon grins proudly.  “‘Kay,” she says cheerfully, waiting just a split second before she tries a little bit of everything all at once.

Natasha shrieks and pants, “ _Fuck_ , yes yes more please!”

Sharon giggles, giving the requested _more_.  She’s feeling increasingly proud of herself and increasingly turned on.

Natasha comes with a wail of Sharon’s name and a string of curses.  Sharon, not quite sure what would be appropriate in Natasha’s opinion, laces her hands together over one of Natasha’s thighs and rests her head there, sort of but not quite cuddling.

After a minute Natasha gets her breath back, and says with a grin, “Well.  I’d say that was more than satisfactory.”

“ _More than_ \- you realize I’m going to see that as a challenge?” Sharon giggles.

“Good,” murmurs Natasha with a laugh of her own.  “But first,” she adds, slowly attempting to push herself into a sitting position despite her body still being a little floppy, “I think you deserve some thanks for that.  If you’d like?”

“Please,” Sharon hums, shifting to press a chaste kiss to Natasha’s skin.

“How do _you_ like to be treated?”

“I’ve been told I can be sort of spoiled,” Sharon murmurs playfully.  “I guess that’s true.  I’m not picky, but I do get needy.”  She drops her voice pointedly.  “Which is especially true now.”

“Awww,” drawls Natasha, grinning.  “How about you just lay back and I’ll see what I can do about that?”  She reaches forward to stroke Sharon’s side.

“Gee, thank you,” Sharon exclaims, all mock-earnestness as she turns over and sprawls out.

First, Natasha leans forward and kisses Sharon on the lips, gently and then less gently.  Then she starts on Sharon’s neck, nipping and kissing at the skin alternatingly.

“Yeah, I like that,” Sharon murmurs, tipping her head to the side.  “That’s good.”

“How do you feel about marks?” breathes Natasha, pressing a kiss to the underside of Sharon’s jaw.

“Nowhere I couldn’t hide for work,” Sharon muses.  “But other than that, fair game.”

Natasha chuckles.  “All right,” she says, starting to move downward.  She kisses a line across Sharon’s collarbone before sucking at the top of her left breast.  “I’d like to see evidence of me on you,” she whispers.

Sharon’s eyes go wide for just a second before she murmurs, “I’d like to see that too.”

Humming happily, Natasha goes to work on her breast again, kneading the other one with her hand.  Sharon hisses when she runs her tongue over the nipple, and that makes Natasha grin and suck on it for a long moment.

“You can tease me or go right for it, either way,” Sharon offers.

“Oh, I don’t know, I’m enjoying the journey,” Natasha says playfully.  “You’re beautiful.”

“This is a weird time for a ‘takes one to know one,’ but.”

“And very sweet.”  Natasha nuzzles Sharon’s breast like a cat.  “And delicious.”

Sharon forgets to respond for a moment, save happy hums, but when she remembers it’s with a very soft, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”  Natasha starts to kiss a line down Sharon’s body, slow and worshipful.

Sharon wiggles just slightly, getting even more comfortable under Natasha.  “S’nice,” she murmurs.  “Where do you wanna claim me?”

“Mmm, I didn’t have a specific spot in mind.”  Natasha pauses to suck at a spot on Sharon’s hip until it darkens.  “Sometimes I just like it.”

“Are all of you this territorial?” Sharon asks.  “Not to ruin the moment, but it just occurred to me to ask.”

Chuckling, Natasha replies, “Just me and Steve, mostly.  Sam is very considerate of his partners and Bucky is needy as hell, but that’s understandable.  Steve and I end up topping, usually.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” Sharon muses.

“He likes to play bashful, but with Bucky especially, he’s good at taking the lead.”  Natasha nips at Sharon again.  “But anyway, back to enjoying you.”

“I can’t very well argue with that,” Sharon grins.

Natasha leaves a few hickeys on Sharon’s hips, stomach and breasts before shifting back to kiss and nibble at her thighs.  “Soft,” she murmurs.

“Thanks, I think,” Sharon says with a little laugh.

“It’s definitely a compliment.”  Natasha kisses a line up Sharon’s thigh, towards her center.  “I think I’d better take care of these,” she says, pressing a kiss to Sharon’s panties.

Sharon nods almost frantically.  “Would you?”

“Of course,” Natasha purrs while reaching to pull them off.  “Wow, you’re pretty worked up,” she adds teasingly, tossing Sharon’s panties to the floor.

“Well, it’s sorta hard not to be when I’m feeding off your reactions,” Sharon points out, tone lofty.

That makes Natasha laugh.  “Cute _and_ you like flattering me.  I’m gonna keep you another week.”  She punctuates the statement with a kiss to Sharon’s clit.

Sharon squeals, bucking up against Natasha’s mouth.  “Mm, I see how it is,” she murmurs.  “I’m willing to keep it up if that’ll help my chances of staying around.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m keeping you. I’ve already decided.” Natasha starts mouthing gently at Sharon’s center, teasing her for a bit longer.

“You make me sound like a pound puppy,” Sharon jokes, trying to control her breathing.

Chuckling, Natasha begins to lick at her before pausing to add, “You’re cute like one, but no, you remind me more of a bunny rabbit.”

“I don’t know how to take that,” Sharon muses.  “Especially right now.”

“Promise it’s meant nicely,” smirks Natasha before continuing her earlier action.

“ _Oh_ ,” Sharon hums, digging her nails into Natasha’s shoulder.  “Yeah, uh-huh.”

Making a happy noise in the back of her throat, Natasha keeps going for a while, then switches to pay her clit some attention again.  Experimentally, she sucks it into her mouth.

Sharon matches that happy noise and possibly tops it, moaning as her body writhes.  “That,” she pants.  “That, a lot.”

“Of course, _зайка_ ,” murmurs Natasha, enjoying the luxury of using the pet name that she’s heard others use but hasn’t been able to herself before.  She toys with Sharon’s clit, enjoying the noises she’s making.

“Explain that later,” Sharon says with a smile, moving her hand onto Natasha’s hair and gently stroking.

That makes Natasha moan, and stop for a minute to reply, “Okay, but I’m obviously not doing it right, you’re still coherent.”  She adjusts slightly so that her fingers are rubbing Sharon’s clit while her tongue enters her.

“You’re doing plenty right,” Sharon murmurs, her breath catching.

Making sort of a growling noise deep in her throat, Natasha starts to work at her harder, her fingers stroking in time with her tongue.  Sharon’s own moans start soft, getting louder with each stroke, and her control over her body is gradually lessening if the way she’s starting to twitch and shake is any indication.

Natasha purrs, “There you go, that’s better,” and continues, letting out her own moans occasionally.  Sharon is _delicious_ \- her boys are all well and good, but variety is nice and, in her experience, girls almost always taste nicer.

Sharon grins, feeling almost drunk on the sensation, and she manages to sigh out a “Thank you” before she loses words entirely and shouts nonsense through her climax.

Humming, Natasha keeps licking at her through it, slowing as her body calms and, once she’s cleaned her up, she slides up to kiss Sharon on the lips.  “Good?” she asks, grinning.

“So good,” Sharon breathes, turning on her side to sprawl out over Natasha possessively.

Natasha chuckles and reaches to stroke Sharon’s hair.  “I’ve had a lovely evening.”

“I think that’s an understatement on my end,” Sharon murmurs.  “You know how to show a girl a good time.  An unbelievably good time.”

“Shameless flatterer,” replies Natasha while drawing circles on Sharon’s back with her other hand.

“Hey, it worked pretty well,” Sharon quips, but then she goes quiet.

“Everything okay there, _зайка_?”

“I think so,” Sharon says softly.  “I’m just... thinking.”

“Oh?”  Natasha keeps her tone light, undemanding.  If Sharon doesn’t want to elaborate, she doesn’t have to, but if she wants to talk about it, Natasha’s willing to listen.

“About logistics,” Sharon clarifies, or anyway she thinks she’s clarifying.  “I’m just trying to figure it out.  How it might be different now and when we’re not just us.”

Nuzzling Sharon’s neck reassuringly, Natasha murmurs, “We’ll take it as slowly as you need to.  Steve’ll come do things with us sometimes, just the three of us - dinners and movie dates and concerts and, y’know, normal dating stuff - and we’ll work our way up to sex, if you want it.  And we’ll keep having you over to our places, to get you settled into the group dynamic too.  Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”  She kisses Sharon feather-light on the lips.

“Thank you,” Sharon says, a bit taken aback by Natasha’s apparent knack for figuring out how to answer questions she wasn’t even sure how to ask.  “Normal dating stuff just sounds so funny in this context, I guess.”

“It’s pretty funny, yeah.  The best is when we go out in pairs and everybody thinks we’re just a gay couple and a straight couple on a double date.  Joke’s on them.”  Grinning, Natasha adds, “Guess we can’t pull that off anymore.  Oh well.  You’re worth it.”

Sharon giggles.  “Do, uh, pairs stay the same?”

“Nah, we switch off depending on how we’re feeling that night.  Steve and I are the least good at acting normal together, but maybe now with you here we’ll make him the fifth wheel sometimes.”  Natasha has a mischievous expression on her face.  “It’ll serve him right for all those times he and Sam third-wheeled me.”

“Awww,” Sharon pouts playfully, snuggling into Natasha.  “Poor thing.  I can’t imagine anyone third-wheeling you.”

“Wasn’t _that_ often, but it’ll be nice to rub it in his face.”  Natasha traces the lines of Sharon’s face.  “You’re very sweet.”

“You say that like it’s a surprise.”

“Not really, but I’m not used to having...this.  Sweet girls are usually afraid of me.”  She punctuates the statement with a snort.

“It takes a lot to scare me,” Sharon points out.  “Stereotypical army brat attitude and all.”

“Well, good.”  Stroking Sharon’s arm, Natasha says, “I guess that rules out taking you to a horror movie so you can bury your face in my shoulder when you get scared.”

“I might bury my face in your shoulder when I get exasperated at the characters for acting like dumbasses,” Sharon suggests.

Natasha makes a satisfied noise.  “That’ll do.”  After a moment of silence she asks, “So, are you up for a round two after you gather your strength?”

“I’m taking that as a challenge, too,” Sharon murmurs happily.


	5. no shame no, can we just be favor friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria and Maya exchange presents, and Maria accompanies Maya to pick something out with the gift certificate she got her. The sex store gift certificate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place some time a bit after [you said remember that life is not meant to be wasted](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/6866234).

“...and she wouldn’t stop chasing the dog around shooting arrows at its ass, it was the funniest thing.”

“The kind with the little suction cups on them, I assume,” Maya says.

“Oh of course, her dad won’t let me give her archery lessons until she’s nine.  And no shooting lessons till she’s twelve.”  Maria grins.  “But Nerf weapons are okay, he says.” 

“Just good preparation for kicking ass with the real thing like her aunt does,” Maya declares, raising her glass in a silent toast. 

Maria chuckles.  “Well, I know Patrick hopes she’ll fixate on someone else who _doesn’t_ carry around a weapon every day.  Kristen just thinks it’s funny, mostly.  And Aly doesn’t have bad aim, for a six-year-old.” 

“As long as she’s not fixating on carrying it inappropriately, and being safe about using it, I say why not,” Maya says.  “I’m pretty sure this lax attitude is one of the many reasons I should not be a parent, but - hey.” 

“Oh, I shouldn’t either,” says Maria with a snort.  “It’s a wonder Pat trusts me with her unsupervised.  But she’s a sweet kid, and really smart.  And she adores me.  Not that I don’t like my brother and his wife, but I basically only go over there to hang out with the kid.” 

“Well, hey, the more positive role models the better, right?” Maya asks rhetorically.  “I bet you’re a great influence.” 

“Thanks,” says Maria, smiling.  “I mean, I try.  I don’t like most kids but since this one likes me, I kind of feel responsible for her.” 

“She appreciates it, I’m sure,” Maya nods.  “I mean, if I’d had an aunt that cool I would have been obsessed with her.” 

“My aunts were all much more normal.  I’m glad to give her someone interesting to admire, I guess.”  Maria shrugs, looking strangely bashful.  “How about you, how was your Christmas?” 

“Same old, same old,” Maya says.  “Mom’s on one of her humanitarian volunteer quests somewhere in Eastern Europe, so our seasonal greetings were brief and over Skype.  I treated myself to a tub of popcorn and _Once Upon a Time: The Movie_ on steroids.” 

The reference makes Maria laugh, but she frowns at the rest of Maya’s statement.  “I mean, if you had a good time I’m glad, but it sounds kind of lonely.  Not that I can talk, before Aly was born I spent half of my Christmases by myself.” 

“I promise I had a good time,” Maya says.  “I’m fine.  But thanks for the concern.”  She’s never been one to get lonely for the sake of loneliness, which is to say she’d rather spend the day by herself than surrounded by people she didn’t care about, but there is a certain sweet quality to Maria’s holiday stories that she sort of envies.  If it could apply to her somehow. 

“Okay,” says Maria, smiling.  “Well, anyway, I’m glad your holidays went well.  Ah, I got something for you.”  It’s the most awkward transition, but she reaches into her purse and pulls out the envelope anyway, setting it in front of Maya. 

“We’re doing gifts now?”  Maya laughs as she rummages in her bag, setting the package on the table before she reaches for Maria’s envelope.  Fair is fair.  She opens it carefully, hiding her surprise behind her hand when she withdraws the paper inside. 

Maria quickly explains, “I saw you eyeing that vibrator Lorelei bought Coulson and I thought maybe you...would like some help getting one.”  Suddenly she feels very awkward.  Somehow this had all made sense while purchasing the gift certificate for the sex shop, but only now does it occur to her that this is not a gift someone buys for a friend. 

“No, I… I like it.”  Maya is too busy being flustered herself to notice how flustered Maria is.  “I mean, I do need a new one.  Mine’s old and pretty junky at this point.”  Too much information, maybe, but hey, she didn’t introduce this topic. 

Maria actually appreciates Maya’s bluntness, truth be told.  It’s refreshing.  It’s one of the reasons she likes her so much.  “I know how that is.  Have a good time.  I know it’s not a lot by comparison, and geez, some of them are pricey as fuck, but it’s something.” 

“Hey, it’s okay!  I’ll definitely be able to manage something good,” Maya assures.  “I mean, I’d rather put in a little bit more to get one that lasts, you know?” 

“Yeah.  My old one was cheap and kinda shitty, but it got the job done.”  Weirdly, this feels perfectly natural, sitting here talking about vibrators with Maya.  Then Maria realizes Maya’s present for her is still sitting on the table.  “Oh!  I should open yours.” 

“Yeah,” Maya shrugs.  “I mean, I’m kinda - it’s silly next to yours.”  Because vibrators are an entirely serious matter.  She shakes her head.  “But I thought you might like it.” 

Maria laughs as she opens the gift.  “I don’t know that what I got you was _silly_ …”  Inside the box is a scarf knitted to look like crime scene tape, complete with CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS repeated on it.  “Oh my god, did you make this?” 

“I wish,” Maya laughs.  “I found it online.  I thought you might get a kick out of it.” 

Maria’s grinning as she wraps it around her neck.  “It’s great, thank you!  I should wear it to work, see what Fury does.” 

“Can I be there to witness his reaction?” Maya asks.

“I’ll try to arrange it,” snickers Maria.  “And you, uh, let me know how your new vibrator works out.”  Shit, that’s even more weird-sounding.  She hopes Maya didn’t notice. 

“Wanna come shopping with me?” Maya asks in a rush, only really realizing what she’s asked once the words are out. 

Maria’s too surprised to respond for a minute, and what comes out is “Okay.” 

“It’ll be fun,” Maya says, then taking a drink of water to shut herself up.

 

* * *

 

“So are you a regular client here?” Maya asks as they approach the shop. 

“Not often,” admits Maria.  “I usually only come when I’m...involved with someone, and other than that I just make do.  Buying your present was actually the first time I’d been in a year or so.” 

“If it works for you, it works,” Maya shrugs, “but I’ve always thought, why not get good toys for you to use yourself, too?  You know.  Treat yo’self, or whatever.” 

“Ooh, well played,” says Maria, grinning at the reference.  “And fair point.  I suppose I just hadn’t thought about it in a while.” 

“Well, maybe I’ll be a bad influence and drag you into thinking about it today,” Maya croons, opening the door to the shop and stepping in. 

Maria follows her, glancing around at the shop, which is on the small side but well-organized.  They’ve gotten a bunch of new products since she was last here, which makes sense, she supposes.  Maya makes a beeline for the vibrator section. 

“Holy shit,” Maya murmurs, lifting a cupcake-shaped toy up for Maria’s inspection.  “This doesn’t even make sense.” 

“Well that’s...patronizing,” replies Maria, grimacing. 

Maya fiddles with the thing, switching it on, and her frown intensifies.  “Feel this,” she says.  “The vibrations aren’t even in the cherry.  Where it’d make sense.” 

“The fuck?”  Maria reaches over to confirm Maya’s statement.  “What a stupid excuse for a toy.” 

“Definitely not worth the money,” Maya declares. 

“Forty-one dollars?  Christ.” 

“No accounting for people’s tastes, I guess,” Maya sighs.  She wanders to the next table, picking up something that looks like a spinning wheel on a kid’s toy. 

“Are those supposed to be... _tongues_?” Maria asks, baffled. 

“I…”  Maya stares at the thing, concentrating deeply.  “I think so?  Maybe?” 

Maria takes it gingerly and manages to turn it on, and when it turns out the tongues spin she murmurs, “It’s like the most fucked-up ferris wheel ever.” 

“Would that get you off?” Maya asks before she can think better of it. 

“I don’t...think so.”  Maria’s staring at the spinning tongues, slightly mesmerized.  “Is it supposed to simulate cunnilingus?  Because _hell no_.” 

“If the makers of this thing think that’s what cunnilingus is like, they’ve clearly been living sad, misinformed lives,” Maya announces. 

Laughing, Maria nods and puts it down.  She scans the selection of toys for a minute before nodding at one that’s more traditionally shaped, hot pink with a white tip and a heart-shaped control panel.  “That one’s a little twee, but it doesn’t look horrifying.” 

Maya reaches for the toy, humming her assent.  “I feel like I’ve heard about this,” she says.  “Decent bang for the buck.  As it were.” 

Snorting at Maya’s pun, Maria ambles over to the section marked with a sleek-looking logo for Lelo.  She’s heard about these, and vaguely recognizes the one Coulson got, but they’ve always seemed overly extravagant to her.  Still, she’s kind of charmed by the cheerful bright colors.  Even though these rabbit vibrators remind her more of the Taco Time cactus than anything.  Maria’s practical, or maybe boring, when it comes to vibrators.  Bullets have always worked just fine for her, thanks very much. 

“See anything you’re interested in?” Maya asks, appearing behind Maria and looking at her looking. 

“Mmm, maybe for next year’s Christmas present to myself,” jokes Maria.  “You seemed to get pretty excited about this Mona thing, is that good?” 

Maya nods eagerly.  “It’s supposed to be _crazy_ good,” she says.  “Turn it on, try it.”  She flinches at that, because obviously it’s not like Maria can completely try it out here and now, but maybe if she ignores what she’s said Maria won’t notice. 

Out of curiosity, Maria does, resting it on the tip of her nose like someone told her to do in college (and why her brain’s decided to retain _that_ bit of information is anyone’s guess).  “Wow,” she says after a moment, “this is intense.” 

“I know, right,” Maya breathes.  It occurs to her that she’s probably standing a little too close, so she steps back, biting her lip, and her eye catches on another display of toys.  “Oh my god, check these out,” she says, lifting a contraption vaguely resembling two lollipops joined together by… a wire. 

“I’m sorry, is that supposed to go in my vagina?  It’s not a child’s mouth,” quips Maria. 

Maya chuckles.  “Apparently it is,” she says.  “It’s for g-spot stimulation, but, ah… it looks like a disaster waiting to happen, honestly.” 

“Whatever happened to using dick-shaped things like regular people?” Maria asks with a grin.  This, too, feels normal, bantering about weird sex toys with Maya. 

“So last year,” Maya quips, flashing a sarcastic smile.  “But of course, even the dick-shaped toys wouldn’t be complete without a little decoration.”  To prove it, she lifts a traditionally-shaped glass dildo wrapped in tiny, rubbery orange spikes. 

Maria makes a small frightened noise that, if anyone but Maya had heard her, she would have denied.  “Are those... _comfortable_?”

“Touch them and see,” Maya says ominously. 

She does, and though they’re rubbery and feel okay on her fingers she shudders on her vagina’s behalf.  “Weren’t those put on bracelets in the nineties?  Who thought they’d be good on a glass dick?” 

Maya laughs, because she can’t help but laugh when Maria says “dick.”  Not in a _ha ha, so naughty_ sort of way, or even a surprised way exactly, but just because she appreciates Maria’s candor.  “Someone who had a lot of those bracelets in the nineties and too much time and money but not enough good sense?” 

“Apparently.”  Maria feels the need to look over at the penis-shaped dildos to clear her mind, even the most absurdly brightly-colored of which now look perfectly reasonable to her. 

“Seeing anything that actually catches your fancy?” Maya asks, because maybe if she keeps joking about this it will stop sounding inappropriate.  Maybe. 

Maria shrugs.  “My trusty old one gets the job done, when it’s needed.  The brightly-colored ones seem a little...loud to me.” 

“I think that’s sort of the point,” Maya muses.  “You know.  If you’re going to go to the trouble of getting a fake one, why not jazz it up a little?  For some people, anyway.”  She’s pretty sure this is the first time that anyone in the world has used the phrase “jazz it up” in reference to dildos, but hey. 

“I guess.”  Then Maria smirks.  “How about you?  Don’t tell me you don’t want a tie dyed dick.”  She holds up the dildo in question teasingly. 

Maya flinches.  “Hell, no,” she laughs.  “I mean, I’d honestly rather have one that’s not trying to be people-colored, but nothing that extravagant.” 

“Fair.”  Maria nods absently, then does a double take as she sees one dildo set slightly apart from the others that has a sign in front of it reading _Not for Sale (aren’t you glad?)_.  “Ah,” she says, pointing at it.  “What’s _that_?” 

Maya wrinkles her nose, coming closer to inspect the thing.  “Some sort of monstrosity?” 

“Yeah.”  It’s bright red, and looks like two small, curved dildos facing the opposite direction but stuck together at the base.  Maria’s vagina protests at the sight of it.  “How are you supposed to fit that in there?” 

“A lot of effort?” Maya asks in a whisper, sounding awed and alarmed. 

“But _why_?”  Maria’s not a prude - or at least, she didn’t _think_ she was.  Apparently the world of sex toys is too complicated for her.  “I don’t see the point.” 

“Different… tastes, I guess,” Maya says.  “I don’t know.  I’m more of a vibrator girl than a dildo girl, honestly.” 

“Oh me too,” replies Maria, before she can regret it.  “I had an ex who liked them though.  She’s why I’ve got the one.” 

“Oh,” Maya murmurs, biting her lip and nodding in a way she hopes reads as understanding from a factual point of view.  “That makes sense, yes.  There are nice things you can do with them, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not the most efficient for me.  You know.” 

“I do.”  Maria smiles.  “It can be nice sometimes, but it’s not my go-to method.” 

“Mine either,” Maya agrees.  “Obviously.  Based on… what I’ve already said.”  She’s sure that by this point she’s making a face that just begs Maria to shut her up, but she’s not going to outright say it.

Actually, Maria finds it charming.  Usually when people babble on and restate themselves it frustrates her, but not with Maya.  So she keeps smiling at Maya, until she senses it might be awkward, and then something else catches her eye.  “Why do those anal beads have a face on the end of them?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maria's scarf is available [here](http://www.fredandfriends.com/on/demandware.store/Sites-FredAndFriends-Site/default/Product-Show?pid=FUZZ#cgid=buy-fred&start=1).
> 
> The sex toys discussed in this fic are the [Cupcake](http://www.shirizinn.com/site/cupcake.htm), [Sqweel 2](http://www.lovehoney.com/product.cfm?p=24042), [Lovelife Cuddle](http://www.shevibe.com/lovelife-cuddle-rechargeable-silicone-g-spot-vibrator-by-ohmibod.aspx#oid=1010_2), [Mona 2](http://www.shevibe.com/mona-2-g-spot-vibrator-by-lelo.aspx#oid=1010_2), [Gspot Lollipop](http://www.gspotlollipop.com/lollipops.html), [Taffy Tickler](http://www.heyepiphora.com/2009/06/review-taffy-tickler-silicone-sweets/), [VixSkin Mustang Tie-Bright](http://www.shevibe.com/vixskin-mustang-silicone-dildo-by-vixen-tie-bright.aspx#oid=1010_2), [Split Dildo](http://splitdildo.com/), and [Flexi Felix Anal Beads](http://www.shevibe.com/fun-factory-flexi-felix-silicone-anal-beads.aspx#oid=1010_2).
> 
> Oh, and the joke about the movie is in reference to Into the Woods.


	6. a breathing bliss, so much expression in such an empty air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria and Isabelle have a weekend away for Valentine's Day. Since no one is really watching, they feel free to be as schmoopy as they want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very few others seemed willing to write fluffy cute smut for them, so we fixed it and wrote _all_ of the fluffy cute smut.
> 
> Follows [I still count on one hand the number of good men I know](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/7253246).

“Holy shit,” Victoria breathes. “You said lake house and I imagined a fucked-up log cabin, not…”

“This?” Isabelle smiles, pleased with her choice. The house is built on a platform, with a tall set of stairs leading up to it. It’s a two-story with windows nearly covering the entire front wall, showing a charming modern aesthetic inside, and a stone chimney completes the picture. It’s within walking distance of the lake, and is fully furnished.

“Yeah, this,” Victoria retorts, stepping out of the car and leaning against the door once it’s shut. “Are you trying to play humble?”

“Not on purpose,” says Isabelle, smirking. “Do you like it?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” Victoria murmurs. Impatiently, she reaches a hand out for Isabelle to take.

Which Isabelle does, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Shall we take a look at our non-fucked up home?”

Victoria is feeling happy enough that she doesn’t even bother trying to hide the way that the combined words _our_ and _home_ make her react. “I’d like that,” she says. “We should get the bags in first, but then I want to kiss you in every room.”

“Ooh, ambitious,” teases Isabelle. “Sounds good to me!”

“You’ve got the keys, you pop the trunk,” Victoria declares.

Isabelle does, grabbing her bag with the hand that isn’t holding Victoria’s, and once Victoria has the other bag she leads her up the stairs to the door. “Let’s start with the outside,” she says, kissing Victoria.

“Not a room,” Victoria says against Isabelle’s lips. “But I don’t care.” She steps closer, pressing her body to Isabelle’s as she deepens the kiss.

Making a happy noise in the back of her throat, Isabelle drops her bag and puts her arm around Victoria’s shoulder to pull her closer. Six months, and she still gets that warm feeling when Victoria kisses her.

“This tour is going to take a long time,” Victoria observes, smiling.

“We have three whole days,” murmurs Isabelle, going back in for another quick kiss, “we’ll find the time.”

“We’re smart,” Victoria agrees. “We’ll manage it.” Reluctantly, she nudges Isabelle in the direction of the door, because she’d rather they get caught up kissing inside where it’s warm.

And, taking the hint, Isabelle unlocks the door and takes Victoria inside. They don’t emerge for a while.

 

* * *

 

“Are you _sure_ you don’t wanna come in?” calls Isabelle, grinning.

“Absolutely sure,” Victoria groans from her place in the chair she dragged down to the lakeside.

“But it’s so nice!” Taking a breath, Isabelle ducks under the surface and swims a few feet, then pops back up.

“I have no desire to contract hypothermia,” Victoria retorts, opening the book she brought with her (it’s an After Ellen-recommended romance novel called _A Knight to Remember_ , which means she would never be seen reading it in front of anyone else).

Isabelle laughs. “It’s really not that cold. It’s downright pleasant, for lake water.”

“You’re not going to convince me!”

Rolling her eyes, Isabelle grins. “Fine. Enjoy your book. I’ll be swimming laps!” She dives to do just that.

“Hey,” Victoria says loudly, “while you’re in there freezing in the name of exercise, I’ll be up here getting all sorts of ideas about what I’m going to do to you later.”

Isabelle surfaces again long enough to laugh, then continues with her laps.

She spends about twenty minutes in the lake, emerging to call, “I feel great!” Then, purposefully striding over to stand in front of Victoria, she purrs, “Why don’t you come with me to get a shower, darling?”

Victoria makes a show of closing her book and looking up, letting her gaze travel all up and down and up Isabelle’s body appreciatively. “I suppose there would be something in it for me,” she muses.

“Well of course,” says Isabelle, smirking. “ _You’d_ be in the shower too, if you wanted.”

“I _should_ clean up before we go to dinner,” Victoria hums.

Isabelle leans forward to kiss her, for just long enough that Victoria makes a soft noise of protest when she pulls away. “Let’s go,” she says with a grin. “It’ll save water.”

“And we must think of conservation,” Victoria agrees with a playful smile. She gathers her things and starts for the house. “You’re such a pragmatist.”

“I try,” replies Isabelle, reaching for her hand.

The bathroom is newly remodeled, and it’s all Victoria can do to pray that it won’t be fitted with one of those rainwater shower heads that doesn’t do anything but drip on you. The shower stall is respectably large, though. Definitely big enough for the two of them.

“The shampoo and all that is on the counter,” Victoria declares, because she, too, is a pragmatist at times.

“Thank you,” says Isabelle, grabbing it.

 

* * *

 

Once Isabelle and Victoria are both naked and standing under the faucet, Isabelle smirks and says, “You know, all of a sudden I’ve forgotten how to wash myself. I think I need... _help._ ”

“Don’t be absurd,” Victoria says, rolling her eyes. She reaches for the bottle of bodywash and squirts some on a washcloth, then very unceremoniously lifts one of Isabelle’s arms to begin scrubbing. It’s almost a dare, in that she’s not starting with someplace sexy.

Which Isabelle notices, of course, and says, “ _Victoria_ ,” pouting exaggeratedly.

“What?” Victoria asks, the picture of innocence.

“And after I gave you such a nice view,” whines Isabelle, playfully, “this is how you treat me?”

“Well, it needs to get done,” Victoria rationalizes. “Cooperate and we can get to the nice parts sooner.”

Isabelle huffs but allows Victoria to continue, moving as needed to assist her.

Obligingly, Victoria rubs the washcloth over Isabelle’s skin, down one side and then the other. She steps closer, presses against Isabelle as she scrubs down Isabelle’s spine, then moves back and finally turns her attention to Isabelle’s breasts.

Humming happily, Isabelle arches her back a bit. “Finally.”

“You know,” Victoria muses, “if this is what you really wanted you could have just told me.” She shakes her head, lifting one of Isabelle’s breasts to run the washcloth under it.

“Could I? You seemed so determined to get all the boring parts out of the way first,” teases Isabelle.

“Well, that makes more sense than putting them off and having to stop in the middle of the good part to take care of them,” Victoria says. “But also, if you’re going to use the forgetting how to wash yourself excuse I’m going to be appropriately instructive.”

Isabelle chuckles. “How kind of you. What if I said I’ve also forgotten how to kiss?”

“I’d point out that you didn’t need to pretend that to get me to demonstrate,” Victoria declares, circling Isabelle’s nipples with the washcloth and leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

Isabelle whimpers, reaching to pull Victoria closer and deepen the kiss. She’s not too proud to admit that what Victoria’s doing to her breasts is making her needy.

“Like that?” Victoria whispers.

“I do,” murmurs Isabelle. “You can keep it up, if you want.”

Victoria grins. “Well, all right, then,” she says, and the hand not holding the washcloth slips between Isabelle’s legs.

Immediately Isabelle shifts to allow her access, sighing happily. “I’m starting to see the merits of asking for things.”

“I should hope so,” Victoria teases.

“I don’t suppose if I asked you to continue with that, you’d oblige?” Isabelle smirks.

“I could be convinced,” Victoria murmurs, stroking over Isabelle’s flesh.

Isabelle hums happily. “Please?”

“Mm, that’s pretty,” Victoria says, leaning in to kiss Isabelle’s neck as she continues to touch her. “You’re really very sweet when it’s just the two of us.”

Isabelle makes a noise in between a gasp and a moan. “Keep that up and I’ll show you how sweet I can be, in a bit.”

“Oh, you _will_ , will you?” Victoria hums. But she does keep at it, careful and precise as anything.

“Yeah,” says Isabelle, her breathing getting slightly ragged. “Please, just a little more…”

“A little more what?” Victoria asks, challenging.

“ _Harder,_ dammit,” growls Isabelle.

Victoria chuckles. It’s funny to push Isabelle to this point, but she always makes good. So harder, harder she rubs and she moves up to kiss Isabelle’s mouth plenty hard to match.

Isabelle whimpers against Victoria’s mouth and shudders against her after a few minutes of that. Once she’s calmed, she gives Victoria another, gentler kiss and murmurs, “Thank you. Do you want anything now or would you rather wait till we’re dry?”

Victoria smiles like she’s got a secret. “Let’s wait till after dinner,” she says. “I’m patient.”

“All right,” says Isabelle. “Wash my hair, then I’ll wash yours?”

“Of course,” Victoria agrees.

 

* * *

 

“If my clients could see what I’m eating right now, they’d be horrified,” says Isabelle, looking very pleased with herself as she takes a bite of her deluxe bacon cheeseburger.

“Everyone’s allowed a little vacation from being health-conscious now and again,” Victoria declares. She dips a fry in ketchup and adds, “You’re only human.”

“True. Besides, this is _slightly_ better than the greasy spoons they confess to going to way too much.” Isabelle smirks. “And hey, anything beats Denny’s.”

That makes Victoria laugh out loud. “You’ve got a point there.”

Isabelle finishes off her burger before asking playfully, “So, have you thought about what you want for...reciprocation?”

“Well, that depends, I think,” Victoria muses.

“Ooh, on what?”

“I didn’t see what you packed, for one.”

Isabelle lowers her voice and says, “Ropes, and some nice things for you to look at.”

“Oh!” Victoria sounds delighted by the prospect. “Well, I’ve got some silk that might serve a similar purpose and some _very_ nice things for you to look at. So I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Excellent,” says Isabelle with an eager smirk.

Victoria lifts her hand, summoning the waiter over with the check. “How generous are you feeling?” she asks as they’re waiting.

“Oh, I can get this-”

“Not that, darling,” Victoria murmurs, reaching for her wallet. “Your weekend getaway plan, my treat at dinner. I meant the other way.”

Isabelle chuckles. “ _Oh_. Well. I think I can be quite generous to you, if you’d like.”

“Wonderful,” Victoria says. The waiter approaches and she sends him off with her credit card before she adds, “In that case, I’m getting some _very_ good ideas.”

 

* * *

 

Isabelle comes out of the bathroom, wearing her newest black lace bra and panties set (very sweet, very soft) and an anticipatory smirk, and pads down to the bedroom where Victoria is waiting. When she opens the door, the sight that greets her is Victoria sprawled out on the bed, making a face that would be ridiculous in any other circumstance but manages to be sexy instead. She’s wearing her own black lace lingerie, a rather dainty chemise with a tiny cutout, and she looks incredible.

“Hello,” Isabelle purrs, making a show of looking her girlfriend over.

“Hello yourself,” Victora replies, beckoning Isabelle over.

Isabelle does, pausing at the edge of the bed. “What would you like me to do?” she asks demurely.

“Kiss me,” Victoria all but demands, one hand toying with a strip of silk.

Isabelle climbs onto the bed and comes over to Victoria, kissing her gently at first and then less gently. She keeps her arms at her sides, though, since she’s not been told to touch Victoria in other ways yet.

“Good,” Victoria hums, reaching to pet Isabelle’s hair. “Do I have full permissions?”

“Of course,” murmurs Isabelle, closing her eyes and nuzzling at Victoria’s hand.

That makes Victoria smile, entirely too sentimental. “All right,” she says, and quickly, tenderly, she wraps that band of silk around Isabelle’s eyes and ties tight. “Yes?”

“ _Yes_ ,” sighs Isabelle, utterly relaxed.

“Mm, good,” Victoria whispers. She pulls Isabelle up for another kiss, this one hungrier than the last. “You promised to pay me back?” She knows, but she needs Isabelle to confirm it one more time for the principle of the thing.

“I did. I will,” says Isabelle eagerly, nodding. “Whatever you want.”

“Slide down,” Victoria orders. “You know where.”

Immediately, Isabelle does, starting to kiss the inside of Victoria’s thighs before moving closer to her center. She can’t help but moan a little when she gets there; she loves Victoria’s taste.

“So good,” Victoria says, a hitch in her breath. “Start slow.”

And Isabelle does, kissing and licking feather-light at Victoria, taking her time as per Victoria’s request. She doesn’t even touch Victoria’s clit for several minutes, and drifts back to kiss her thighs again a few times.

“Yeah,” Victoria murmurs. “That’s… yeah.” She places a hand on Isabelle’s shoulder to guide her in the right direction.

Finally, Isabelle starts on her clit, gently lapping at and around it. She hums happily, enjoying Victoria’s touch and, even more, her taste.

Victoria traces her fingernails across the bare skin of Isabelle’s shoulder and arm, softly asking, “Tell me what you’re thinking about?”

“You,” says Isabelle, because even though that’s a bit ridiculous, it’s true. “How much I love doing this for you. How beautiful you look tonight, what your face looks like when I do this-” she swipes at Victoria’s clit with her tongue “-and...how lucky I am.” It’s more sentimental than she usually allows herself to be, but fuck it.

“Flatterer,” Victoria whispers, but she’s pleased to hear it. “I’m lucky too, you know.”

Isabelle sighs gratefully and slips her tongue inside Victoria. She feels completely at peace, being here and taking care of Victoria like this.

Victoria matches that sigh and pets her girlfriend’s hair, reassuring and thanking all at once. “You're lovely," she declares. “You make me feel so good.”

Practically purring with delight, Isabelle shifts so her fingers can work at Victoria’s clit while she licks inside her. She knows just how Victoria likes it.

Like that, it doesn’t take long for Victoria to start to tip over the edge, clutching at Isabelle’s hair and pushing her head forward greedily. “God, please, Belle,” she whines, because no matter how in control she’s been the rest of the night she always gets needy when she’s close like this.

The nickname makes Isabelle chuckle and gently guide Victoria over the edge, enjoying how she can make Victoria fall apart like this. She’s almost reluctant to pull away once Victoria’s body stills, but she leans back slightly and asks “Good?” with a smirk.

“So, so good,” Victoria whispers. She takes a second to collect herself, fluffing her hair even though it’s not like how disheveled she looks is really of concern right now and breathing in-out, then she says, “Come back up here and get comfortable.”

So Isabelle does as she’s told, rolling over and sprawling out beside Victoria. “Anything else you’d like me to do?” she asks softly.

“Just be here with me,” Victoria says. She scoots down, traces fingertips over the silk blindfold before leaning in to kiss Isabelle’s throat.

Isabelle hums and arches against her lips. “All right. Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Victoria replies. She turns to press her body fully against Isabelle’s, throwing an arm over her waist and rubbing up and down her back. “You’re something of an anomaly.”

“Am I?” Isabelle snuggles against Victoria’s body, relaxing under her touches.

“Yes,” Victoria says, kissing Isabelle’s jaw. “I’m not usually this comfortable with people.”

“Oh. Yes, I’d guessed that. By the way…” says Isabelle, grinning, “I’m not a Disney Princess.”

“I know that,” Victoria groans. “But I still think you’re pretty…”

“Pretty what?” asks Isabelle, playing along.

“I don’t know,” Victoria sighs. “Magical sounds frivolous, but it’s somewhere in that vicinity.”

“ _Gosh_.” Isabelle feigns cartoon bashfulness. “And here I was just playing with you for that nickname earlier. Not that I minded, it was cute.”

“Well, I hadn’t exactly put that much thought into it then,” Victoria retorts, “but it makes sense in retrospect, I think.”

“You’re very sweet,” murmurs Isabelle, feeling around for Victoria’s hair and then petting it once she’s found it. It’s a little ridiculous since she’s got the blindfold on still, but she’s not about to ask for it to come off until Victoria wants it to.

Victoria giggles a little at that, but fondly. “I’m really not,” she points out. “Except with you. Hence, anomaly.”

Isabelle snorts. “I’m not either, but I’m glad I get all of yours. You make me feel _very_ nice.”

“Nice always isn’t what I’m going for, but I’ll take it in the spirit it’s meant,” Victoria teases.

 

* * *

 

“Why are we here?” Isabelle gazes around the overly cutesy antique shop.

“Well,” Victoria says, trying for some semblance of logic, “when you’re walking down the main street of a tourist town, it’s good form to visit at least some of the attractions you see.”

“I suppose, but...antiques? You don’t strike me as the antiques type,” replies Isabelle, smirking.

“It was a better option than going in the canoe store,” Victoria deadpans. “Canoes involve getting in the lake, and I have no intention of doing that.”

Isabelle rolls her eyes. “Spoilsport,” she says teasingly.

“It’s very pretty to look at,” Victoria concedes, “but it’s also February. No way in hell.”

“You’re just afraid you’ll look bad next to me,” replies Isabelle with a wink. Then pauses to stare in horror at a clay figure of a naked child with poseable wooden arms, golden curls, and a terrifying impish expression on its face. “Why would anyone buy that?”

“Possibly to remind them of the horrors of offspring? Sort of a cautionary tale?”

Shuddering, Isabelle nods. “I’m glad I’m not attracted to men, who would pester me about ‘passing on their genes.’”

“It’s just biologically-justified narcissism,” Victoria agrees. “I’m glad we won’t be like that.” Of course, the moment it’s out she panics, but there’s no going back.

Isabelle lets that hang in the air for a moment, enjoying the weight behind the words, and then says, “I’m glad too,” reaching for Victoria’s hand to squeeze it.

Victoria squeezes back, smiling almost shyly, before nodding to a wall of decorative crosses ahead of them. “And we sure won’t be like that,” she chuckles.

“God, no,” groans Isabelle. “Shoot me if I ever suggest buying anything half so ostentatious.”

“The only reason I’m promising is that I know you would never,” Victoria says.

“Good,” says Isabelle affectionately. She steps over to inspect a display of keys.

“What in the fuck do you need with a key that doesn’t open anything?” Victoria asks in a low voice.

Isabelle shrugs. “Jewelry? Hipsters seem to like key-themed jewelry.”

“I guess,” Victoria says, but she doesn’t sound convinced. “These are a bit… big for necklaces, some of them, but they’d probably be doing it ironically.”

“Of course,” says Isabelle, rolling her eyes.

“Honestly, these stores always strike me as a fascinating window into the _what if_ of normal people’s lives,” Victoria muses.

Chuckling, Isabelle asks, “So _normal people_ have scary clay babies and twee multicolored animals? That’s news to me.”

“Normal old people, maybe,” Victoria shrugs. “Or normal people in olden days.”

“Gotcha.” Isabelle nods. “I mean, I can appreciate the artistry of something like that…” She nods at a cow skull carved with an intricate pattern that’s hanging on the wall. “...but I don’t know if I understand the _point_ behind it, or why someone would want it.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Victoria says. “ _Memento mori_?”

“Maybe. A bit grim for interior decor though.”

The entertainment value of the antique store sort of diminishes when they’ve made the rounds, so Victoria steers her girlfriend out and back onto the thoroughfare. She’d be content to just walk around, but she’d also be content to keep making fun of things, so she doesn’t suggest their next destination but instead waits for Isabelle to do that.

“Ooh, knitware,” says Isabelle sardonically after they’ve been walking for a few minutes. “Just what everyone needs.”

“Oh, completely,” Victoria agrees in a monotone.

“Miniature knitted pigs are a must-have.” Isabelle nods at one part of the window display.

“Perfect for every…” Victoria trails off, staring at the things. “Every where, exactly? Or when?”

Isabelle laughs. “Everywhere and everywhen, I guess. I admit I’m curious about what other things are in there.”

“Lead the way,” Victoria says with a smirk.

They go inside, and there are racks of sweaters and scarves and shelves full of tea cosys and an entire wall of hats. “I wonder how many sheep you could make from this place,” jokes Isabelle.

“Depends on how much of it is synthetic yarn and not natural,” Victoria replies immediately.

“Oh, you’ve spoiled the joke,” says Isabelle playfully.

“You asked,” Victoria points out, nudging Isabelle’s side.

“I wasn’t being _serious_.” Isabelle nudges her back. This is a closeness she hasn’t really had with many people, and it feels odd, but nice.

“I’m sorry, I’m used to nonsensical questions being serious,” Victoria points out. “Hazard of retail, I think.”

Isabelle laughs. “I can only imagine the morons that you have to talk to every day.”

“The most absurd customer at Kay is a picnic compared to some of the assholes I’d run into at Target, so I consider myself lucky,” she says.

“What kind of things happened at Target?”

“Oh, the usual hell. Customers refusing things that weren’t _extra_ marked-down even though clearly only one of the discounts applied, customers asking for things that of course we didn’t have then or ever,” Victoria shrugs. It’s generally been her policy to keep her frustrations to herself, at least the past-tense ones, because it’s not like they really matter in the long run, they’re just more material for her list of reasons why oftentimes people suck. “The woman throwing a fit because we didn’t have any swimsuits in the middle of winter, the man who wanted to return something he didn’t have a gift receipt for but refused to take the price we had to ring it up for.”

“God. Fitness people are just pushy, or they stop making appointments a month into training.” Isabelle rolls her eyes. “Irritating, but manageable.”

“Oh, I can manage the idiots,” Victoria says with a smile. “I can manage them very well. Hence my promotions and official manager status. I just don’t like them.”

“I’m sure you can,” says Isabelle, her voice going suggestive. Well, she’s only human and the mental image of Victoria managing people is a very nice one.

“You sound like you’re having thoughts that would make the kindly townsfolk in the sweater store aghast,” Victoria observes.

“Maaaaaaybe,” purrs Isabelle, running her hand down Victoria’s arm. “What would you do about that?”

“Ask you to save them for later, when you can do something about them,” Victoria murmurs.

Sighing, Isabelle nods. “You’re right, I suppose. But if we _weren’t_ in the sweater store…?”

“Then I’d ask you to show me.”

Isabelle grins. “I think I’m about done with this store.”

 

* * *

 

“This is a fancier place than the rest of this town put together,” Victoria observes, looking around the tiny, rather predictable, classy Italian restaurant. There are only five other tables, but looking at the prices on the menu, they can’t be having too hard a time.

Isabelle snorts. “I guess they have to have _one_ nice restaurant for tourists.”

Victoria glances at the other guests. “Bet everyone in this place is from out of town?”

“Oh, no doubt. The people with kids, for sure,” says Isabelle, nodding at the two families that are, thankfully, seated as far from them as possible (and the children are all fairly well-behaved). “That old couple might be retirees, though.”

“Might be, but that’s sort of like being out of town all the time, in places like this,” Victoria says.

“Fair point. I suppose that’s one perk of getting old,” says Isabelle, smirking.

“Let’s not talk about that,” Victoria mutters, because while she’s not exactly a _carpe diem_ sort of girl, she doesn’t like thinking that far into the future, either. It’s not, she realizes, for the reasons it usually is, though. With Isabelle, she actually doesn’t feel terrified of the idea.

Isabelle reaches over to pat Victoria’s arm. “Don’t worry, we won’t.” She’s quiet a moment before adding, “I hope you know I’m getting tonight’s dinner.”

Victoria raises an eyebrow. “Turnabout is fair play, after all?”

“Of course,” says Isabelle with a grin. “I very much look forward to it later.”

“Good,” Victoria murmurs. “I promise I’ll be good.”

“You always are,” Isabelle replies fondly.

“I think that’s another thing that sets you apart,” Victoria muses. “I actually want to be, with you.”

Isabelle can’t help but sigh a little. “Thank you, that means a lot.”

“Good,” Victoria repeats, smirking. “I don’t say it lightly.”

“I know,” says Isabelle, resting her hand on Victoria’s. “I’m honored.”

Victoria’s expression softens, but that’s all she’s going to say about that in public. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” she declares instead, putting a smug note in the words.

“To you too,” says Isabelle, laughing a bit. “This is certainly one of the nicer ones I’ve had.”

“To be honest, I don’t usually pay attention to the day at all,” Victoria declares, sipping her wine.

Isabelle chuckles. “Shocking. I don’t unless I’m with someone, otherwise it’s usually a slow day at work.”

“I can’t imagine too many people seek their trainer out on Valentine’s,” Victoria says. “If romantic comedies were true, everyone would be either out having wild sex or binging on chocolate in their despondency.”

“Oh, nothing so dramatic, from my experiences both as a coupled and uncoupled person. But people are less inclined to want to exert themselves if they’re going out in the evening, or if they’re treating themselves to something nice.”

“Makes sense,” Victoria agrees. “I’d like to think I wouldn’t need something like this to be a happy person, but I’m definitely happy with it, too.”

“I’m glad,” says Isabelle with a warm smile. “I’m happy too.”

Their food arrives, and Victoria waits until Isabelle is settled and eating to start in on her own dish. After a moment she says, “Did you have any grand plans for tomorrow?”

“No. We’ve sort of exhausted the options here, so I thought...pajamas, couch, Netflix?”

“Honestly, I’d be relieved,” Victoria whispers. “I keep assuming I’m going to say something that will offend a concerned citizen and I’ll have to listen to their verbal retaliation.”

“I didn’t think you worried about things like that,” teases Isabelle. “I thought you were a badass who doesn’t care what anybody thinks of her.”

“Oh, I don’t,” Victoria retorts. “I just prefer to avoid idiots when I’m on vacation.”

“Ah.” Isabelle nods, taking another bite of her lasagna.

“Besides, the whole point of a weekend getaway was to get away from other people,” Victoria continues, shrugging innocently.

“Good point! You’re my favorite person to be around, anyway,” says Isabelle. Her tone is casual, but she knows Victoria will understand.

“Likewise to you,” Victoria replies, just as nonchalant.

They finish dinner, order two slices of cheesecake to go, and leave. Just after the door closes behind them, Isabelle leans over to whisper in Victoria’s ear, “Just because I don’t have anything planned for tomorrow doesn’t mean I don’t have things planned for you tonight.”

 

* * *

 

They’re in their lingerie (the nicer, holiday-appropriate sets, or more accurately the bras: Victoria’s the same black and pink combination as her hair, Isabelle’s a simpler black and nude) and kissing, Isabelle with her arm around Victoria, when Isabelle pulls back and murmurs, “Lie down.”

“On my back?” Victoria asks even as she’s doing just that. She can always roll over if she has to.

“Yes, thank you,” says Isabelle, leaning over her to kiss her once more on the lips before starting her way down Victoria’s body. She pauses at her breasts for a moment, kissing the nipples through the fabric of her bra, then continues downward.

“Mmm, yeah,” Victoria hums, idly brushing a hand across Isabelle’s shoulder.

Isabelle teases her way to Victoria’s center, then begins to lick at her earnestly. Normally she’d start more subtly, but she has _plans_.

Which Victoria is beginning to figure out. “Getting right to it, I see,” she says.

Making a noncommittal sound, Isabelle continues to mouth at her, doing her best to work her up. She slows down a little, then speeds up again, changing the tempo every so often.

“That’s nice,” Victoria murmurs, rubbing Isabelle’s shoulder as a form of encouragement.

Isabelle sucks Victoria’s clit into her mouth for a moment, then dips her tongue inside her. She hums happily at Victoria’s taste.

For her part Victoria sighs happily, digging nails into Isabelle’s skin and rutting against her mouth.

Which was what Isabelle was waiting for, and she takes a moment to savor it before pulling away from Victoria enough to say, “Alright, now I need your wrists together.”

Victoria all but yelps indignantly, but she does as she’s asked, resting them on her abdomen.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go back to it in a moment,” says Isabelle playfully, reaching for the rope that’s been placed off to the side. She gently arranges Victoria’s arms so they’re bent at the elbows and her wrists are next to each other, then works on tying them together. Once she’s made sure it’s sufficiently tight, she strokes down Victoria’s arm and says, “Good?”

Victoria pulls at the ropes, though not with any particular force or motivation, and when Isabelle caresses her like that, she nods. “Really good,” she agrees.

“All right,” says Isabelle with a grin. “Now, where was I?” She slides back down and begins to mouth at Victoria again.

Victoria whines (it’s the sort of sound she checked herself before making with just about anyone else) and pushes her hips up insistently. “There, you were there,” she says.

Isabelle chuckles against her, and starts flicking her tongue against and around Victoria’s clit.

“Please?” Victoria breathes out, hating the note of desperation in her voice.

“Mmm, you’re so polite,” murmurs Isabelle, then continues.

“Usually it works,” Victoria retorts, though there’s not much bite to it.

That makes Isabelle laugh again. “We’ll get there,” she soothes, licking inside Victoria again.

“You’re mean,” Victoria moans, fingernails now digging into her own palms.

“Sometimes you _like_ that,” teases Isabelle. “But anyway, I’m about to be meaner. I’m going to come up there and sit on you. You know what to do then.”

She does, unable to keep the grin off her face at Victoria’s indignant noises. She settles with Victoria’s head between her thighs, and reaches down to pet her hair. “Go ahead. Make me come, and _then_ we’ll see about you.”

‘Fine,” Victoria mutters, and she can completely understand why Isabelle wanted her hands tied because all _she_ wants right now is to give her a playful, chiding slap on the ass. But it’s also not like eating her girlfriend out is really an imposition, so she lifts her head and begins kissing and licking at Isabelle.

“There you go,” says Isabelle, stroking at Victoria encouragingly.

Victoria huffs, dragging her tongue up Isabelle’s slit as slowly as she can manage. Her eyes close in concentration (or possibly some form of stubbornness).

Isabelle groans. “I know what you’re doing,” she says, “but at least it feels nice.”

“Good,” Victoria mumbles. “I want it to.”

“Could go a little faster though,” teases Isabelle. “I wouldn’t object.”

Victoria sighs as if it’s the most difficult thing in the world, but she speeds it up, mouthing at Isabelle with increased urgency.

Isabelle moans and sighs, “Yes, _that_ , thank you.”

Victoria smiles, moving her attention to Isabelle’s clit. “Yeah?”

“ _Yeah_.” The word is more of a sigh than anything.

“Mm, good,” Victoria says, biting down just slightly around Isabelle’s clit before licking over it soothingly.

That makes Isabelle shriek and then moan. “Oh my god, _Toria!_ ”

At that, Victoria’s eyes go wide, because whatever she was expecting, it definitely wasn’t that. Not that she minds. She just hums her assent, though, working as hard as she can to bring Isabelle off.

Which Isabelle does promptly, with drawn-out vowel-y moans, and when she’s ridden it out she’s still panting. “ _God,_ you’re amazing.”

“How amazing?” Victoria asks, sounding a bit smug.

“So amazing, holy shit.” Isabelle lets her hand flop down to pet Victoria’s hair again. “You’re better at that than anyone else I’ve ever been with.”

“Thank you,” Victoria says, entirely sincere and entirely preening. “Glad to know I’m special.”

“Very special,” says Isabelle warmly. “In fact, I’d say a performance like that deserves a reward for sure.” She climbs off of Victoria and slides down her body, kissing and petting as she goes.

“Ohhh,” Victoria exclaims, writhing and wiggling receptively. “So I just had to earn it.”

“Just for tonight,” replies Isabelle. “I knew you were up to the challenge.” Then she dips her head back between Victoria’s legs and tongues at her again, enjoying how worked up she’s gotten.

“Dammit, please?” Victoria mutters, arching her back impatiently.

“I’ve got you, don’t worry,” says Isabelle, lapping at her just as she likes.

“Fuck,” Victoria pants, “come on, _there_.”

Isabelle hums and increases the pressure, enjoying Victoria’s frustration but not wanting to exasperate her too much.

“You’re ridiculously good at this, too,” Victoria murmurs.

Isabelle pauses just long enough to murmur, “Good, I’m glad,” before continuing, working at Victoria’s clit for a while and then inside her.

“Yes, please,” Victoria breathes out, and she doesn’t even notice how she’s pulling at the ropes around her arms again just out of need.

Moaning a bit, Isabelle licks and sucks and does everything she can think of to tip Victoria over the edge. She can’t see Victoria pulling at the ropes, but she can imagine it, and it’s really hot.

Altogether unceremoniously, then, Victoria comes, moaning out Isabelle’s name and cursing.

Isabelle keeps mouthing at her until Victoria quiets, cleans her up, then moves to kiss her on the lips. “There, see? I took care of you.”

“You did,” Victoria sighs, utterly content. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” says Isabelle fondly, stroking her hair. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Victoria murmurs, tipping her head against Isabelle’s hand.

 

* * *

 

“Why were people raving about this?”

Isabelle shrugs as best she can, since Victoria’s got her head pillowed on Isabelle’s shoulder. “Because...art film?”

“Art film and good aren’t mutually exclusive,” Victoria mutters.

Laughing, Isabelle nods. “Well, _I_ know that. I guess a big chunk of the lesbian community doesn’t know that.”

“But those… were _rubber vaginas_ ,” Victoria whispers, horrified.

“Yes.” Isabelle wiggles the cursor. “Oh god, there’s almost two hours left.”

“We should cut out while we still can,” Victoria says.

“Agreed.” Hitting the spacebar, Isabelle asks, “Should we watch something else to, uh, detox?”

“I think that sounds excellent,” Victoria agrees. “Serious or silly?”

“I don’t think I could handle more seriousness,” laughs Isabelle.

“Oh, I’m so glad you said that,” Victoria murmurs. “I couldn’t either.” Idly she strokes Isabelle’s hair, frowning at the computer screen. “Where to, then?”

Frowning, Isabelle clicks on the “Comedies” link. “Well, there’s _Mean Girls._ That fixes everything.”

“You’re right about that,” Victoria agrees, angling to kiss the top of Isabelle’s head. “Though if it ever gets out to the assholes I work with, it’ll be my undoing.”

“I’m sworn to secrecy,” teases Isabelle, clicking on the movie and then kissing Victoria’s cheek.

They watch the movie in companionable silence, laughing at the appropriate spots, and Isabelle spends most of it stroking some part of Victoria. When the credits roll, she asks, “Did you want to go out for dinner tonight?” They woke up late, and it’s just after four in the afternoon, but they’re still in the pajamas they threw on when they decided to move from the bedroom to the couch.

“Honestly?” Victoria pulls a face. “I think we’ve been everywhere in this town that’s not a fast food restaurant.”

“Good point. Well, we do have the supplies for s’mores…”

“And we have a fireplace to make them with.”

“Yes. And I know how to light it.” Isabelle strokes down Victoria’s thigh.

“Of course you do,” Victoria hums, smiling playfully. “I think I’m all right with that being the plan.”

Isabelle shrugs and says, “I was a Girl Scout.”

“I’m sure you’ve always been very _prepared_ ,” Victoria murmurs, smirking.

Chuckling, Isabelle says, “Well, I admit I wasn’t quite prepared for _you_.”

Victoria’s normal instinct would be to roll her eyes at something like that, but how can she when Isabelle is looking at her with that face? So instead she just teases, “You’re sucking up.”

“I’m hoping it’ll count in my favor for later,” replies Isabelle.

“Oh, is that _so_ ,” Victoria whispers, reaching to stroke down Isabelle’s spine.

Isabelle practically melts under the touch, then wiggles happily. “It is,” she murmurs.

“God, that’s hot,” Victoria whispers, leaning close and resting her chin on Isabelle’s shoulder. “I love all your sweet little reactions to things.”

Isabelle hums happily. “You’re good at causing them.”

“Thank you,” Victoria says. “It’ll be even more of a thank you once you get that fire started and we make use of it.”

“All right, all right,” replies Isabelle playfully, disentangling herself from Victoria to go hunt down matches. There’s a basket of wood and a basket of old magazines near the fireplace, which strikes her as a bit patronizing - she has _chopped wood_ for a fire herself, after all - but tonight she’s grateful for it.

Soon there’s a nice roaring fire going and she goes into the kitchen to grab s’more supplies. “Here,” she calls once it’s all assembled, “this is your stick.”

Victoria accepts this with a shrug and a smile. “You know one of the fun things about this?”

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s not a single person who would guess that this is what I’m doing right now.”

“That’s true,” laughs Isabelle. “I’m sure no one who knows you would suspect that you’re secretly a romantic who likes snuggling with your girlfriend while you make s’mores.”

“Not my family, not my coworkers,” Victoria agrees smugly. “I bet even Pepper would doubt it.”

“Probably.” Isabelle smirks. “She’s a smart woman, but she’s only seen you in a very particular context. And I bring out the sap in you,” she adds.

“High compliment that that didn’t make me run screaming,” Victoria points out.

“I know it,” says Isabelle, reaching to squeeze her hand, and then moves her marshmallow closer to the fire.

Victoria tends to her own marshmallow for a moment before pointing out, “It’s not like you’re some fluff monster most of the time.”

“No. You bring out the sap in me too,” says Isabelle with a shrug.

“What a fine pair we make,” Victoria murmurs.

“Yes.” Isabelle leans over to kiss Victoria on the cheek before pulling her marshmallow out and beginning to assemble her s’more.

Victoria keeps hers in a few seconds longer (she enjoys them on the toastier side of toasty) before pulling it out as well. “I’m pretty glad we’re sappy for each other,” she declares.

“I am too,” says Isabelle, taking a bite of her s’more.

Victoria assembles her s’more and nibbles it as she stares into the fire. “This was actually a kind of perfect weekend.”

“I’m glad,” Isabelle murmurs, giving Victoria a proper kiss on the lips. “I wanted it to be for you. For us.”

“Thanks,” Victoria hums, resting her head on Isabelle’s shoulder. “That means a lot.”

Isabelle cards her fingers through Victoria’s hair and, after finishing another bite, says, “I love you, Toria.”

Victoria sighs happily. “I love you too, Belle.”


	7. do your chanting, do your dance, do you mind if we don’t hold hands?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobbi takes Christine back to her place, and they proceed to have mutually beneficial sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows [and my heavy heart sinks deep down under you and your twisted words](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/7369520).

“You have a nice place,” says Christine, glancing around Bobbi’s apartment.

“It’s decently put-together, and maybe it’s deceptively cleaner than usual in hopes that I’d have someone to show it off to, but it’s hardly fancy,” Bobbi shrugs cheerfully. “Any of the furniture that I _could_ buy at Target, I probably did.”

“I prefer it to places that exist just to show off how absurdly rich someone is.” Christine grins.

“You been to a lot of those?” Bobbi teases.

Christine laughs. “Enough. I’ve decided fuck wealthy men, I’m tired of feeling like arm candy.”

“Good for you!” Bobbi declares, patting the other woman on the shoulder. “Men are nice sometimes, but it feels like they’re more trouble than they’re worth lately.”

“Yeah. So, where’s this toy collection of yours?”

Bobbi takes Christine’s hand and tugs her toward the bedroom, where she proceeds to open a dresser drawer. A very reasonably sized dresser drawer full of just about every variety of sex toy imaginable.

“The really weird shit is in a box in the closet,” Bobbi adds, smirking.

Christine doesn’t bother to keep the awe off her face. “Holy shit, you’re a fucking _connoisseur_ ,” she breathes.

“See anything you like?” Bobbi purrs, sitting back on her bed with legs crossed.

Studying the assortment for a long moment, Christine finally grabs a purple dildo and says, grinning, “I have a feeling you’re better with this than Tony is with his.”

“I sincerely doubt that’s difficult, but I’m up for testing it,” Bobbi declares. “Want me to find a harness, make it a real experiment?”

“Please,” Christine practically purrs.

“What are you gonna do to make it worth my while?” Bobbi asks.

“I’ve been told I’m good with my mouth,” replies Christine, smirking.

Bobbi leans back on her elbows, regarding Christine coolly. “I’m sure I taste better than Tony, too,” she smirks.

“Again, not a high bar,” laughs Christine. “But it’s been too long since I’ve eaten a girl out. I’d be happy to fix that.”

“Mm, I’m glad to help, then,” Bobbi murmurs. “Undress me.” It comes out much more commanding than the last, but she’s got a feeling that’s going to work.

Christine groans a little at that and climbs onto the bed, reaching for Bobbi’s leather jacket as she leans forward to kiss her lips. She’s cautious at first, sussing out what Bobbi likes, and her kisses get rougher as she eases the jacket off of Bobbi’s shoulders. Her next target is Bobbi’s neck, which she kisses down while running her hands under Bobbi’s tank top for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of her.

“Yeah, I kinda thought you might like that,” Bobbi whispers, tilting her head to give Christine better access to her neck and sliding hands around to cup Christine’s ass.

“Mm, that’s nice,” murmurs Christine, working the tank top over Bobbi’s head. She cups Bobbi’s breasts in her hands and asks, “Mind if I pause a minute so I can play with these?”

“I’m pretty sure you actually want to play with them out of interest, not because _ooh, boobies_ ,” Bobbi snarks, “so go for it.”

Christine snorts. “If I just wanted any old boobs to play with, I have some. But I like yours, they’re nice.” She unfastens Bobbi’s bra and then, tossing it to the ground, she sucks one nipple into her mouth while kneading the other breast with her hand.

“Thanks,” Bobbi declares, grinning. “I gotta say, your mouth _is_ very promising.”

That makes Christine grin and nip at Bobbi’s breast. “I try. Anything in particular you like?”

“I’ve never been opposed to biting,” Bobbi hums, shifting back into that authoritative voice to add, “I just hope you remember who’s in charge.”

“Oh, I do,” sighs Christine. She uses her teeth on both of Bobbi’s breasts for a few minutes before letting her hands wander back down to the zipper on Bobbi’s extremely tight jeans. “Just trying to give you a nice time.”

“You’re doing a very good job,” Bobbi assures, wiggling her hips to help Christine get her jeans off. “Anything I should know for you?”

“I like it kinda rough, if you don’t mind.” Christine shrugs. “When we get to part two of the evening, I wouldn’t mind being told what to do to you.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” Bobbi murmurs. Quick as anything, she reaches to pull Christine’s dress over her head. “I’m sure you listen very well, too.”

Christine nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Sweet and gorgeous all at once,” Bobbi says with a smile, running her hands over Christine’s sides. “You’re a very nice surprise.”

Closing her eyes, Christine hums happily at Bobbi’s touch. “Thanks. So’re you, I was expecting it would just be me and my vibrator tonight.”

“I promise I’m much more fun than that,” Bobbi giggles. She pulls back and climbs off the bed, going to the closet and bending straight over to give Christine a nice view of her ass as she rummages around.

Which Christine appreciates. “I’m guessing I should get the rest of this off?” she asks, since she’s still in her bra and panties.

“Please do,” Bobbi says, adding an “A-ha!” when she finds what she’s apparently looking for. She reaches for the dildo, then turns her back to Christine while she fiddles with it and steps into the harness.

Meanwhile, Christine wriggles out of her underwear, draping herself across the bed once she’s naked in anticipation.

Smirking as smugly as she can possibly do, Bobbi turns to face Christine once she’s all ready, a hand on her hip. “Ready?”

“ _Yes_ ,” whimpers Christine.

Bobbi gives a happy, appreciative sigh as she approaches, reaching for Christine’s knees to nudge her legs farther apart. “How rough is kinda rough?” she whispers.

“Mmm, how rough are you thinking?” teases Christine. “I’m up for a lot.”

“I’m thinking rough enough that you scream,” Bobbi hums. “Scream so loud my neighbors bang on the wall.”

“ _God_ , yes. I’m more than up for that.” Christine looks up at Bobbi, her breathing getting heavier in anticipation.

“Good,” Bobbi says, reaching to get Christine warmed up. With a delighted giggle, she croons, “You’re very eager for me already.”

“Yeah,” gasps Christine. “You’re really hot, so, y’know, that helps.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, sweet thing,” Bobbi murmurs, slipping two fingers inside Christine almost teasingly.

Christine moans. “ _Fuck_ me, already.”

“Ooh, I sorta like impatience on you,” Bobbi observes, withdrawing her fingers and positioning the dildo without actually letting it enter Christine yet.

“You’ll see more of it if you keep teasing me like this,” whines Christine. “Please, Bobbi…”

“Aw, since you asked so nicely,” Bobbi says, thrusting into Christine and reaching to wrap her legs around her waist in one smooth motion. She keeps a hold of Christine’s thighs as she begins to pump her hips, that smirk returned.

“Fuck yes,” groans Christine, grabbing onto Bobbi to help her thrust deeper into her. “You’re better than Tony already.”

“Then it’s not hard to do,” Bobbi laughs, “I haven’t even gotten started.” She tightens her hold on Christine’s legs, letting fingernails dig into her skin and watching for a reaction.

Christine gasps at that feeling. “M-more of that.”

So Bobbi grins and digs in a bit harder, hoists Christine’s legs up a bit higher. “That’s pretty,” she says. “Beg for me some more.”

“God, _please_ , Bobbi.” Christine’s usually more composed with this, but Bobbi is _damn_ good with that strap-on, and she feels so good already.

“I like that,” Bobbi declares, rolling her hips. “Is this doing it for you?”

“Yes,” Christine whimpers. “ _Harder_.”

“Mm, as you wish,” Bobbi smirks, raising an eyebrow as she practically slams her hips into Christine’s.

Which makes Christine shriek in delight and wrap around Bobbi tighter. “More of that, please, please.”

Grinning, Bobbi obliges, gripping tighter and moving faster. “You could still be screaming more than that, you know.”

Christine opens her mouth to retort, but what comes out in a drawn out vowel-y moan that gets louder the faster Bobbi goes. Soon enough, she’s screaming just like Bobbi asked, nonsense sounds and profanities and Bobbi’s name.

“God, yeah, that’s hot,” Bobbi growls. “C’mon, show off for me.”

So, with an especially loud scream, Christine comes, her body clenching around Bobbi. Then she collapses beneath her, panting.

Bobbi smiles, easing off the bed to remove the harness before she lies down beside Christine and pets her hair. “You’re ridiculously hot,” she murmurs.

“You’re one to talk,” gasps Christine. “Holy shit, I haven’t come that hard in a long time.”

“You’re welcome,” Bobbi teases, the very picture of smugness.

“Give me a minute to get my body back and I’ll return the favor.”

“Mm, even better,” Bobbi says, punctuating it with an affectionate kiss on Christine’s cheek.

Christine sighs happily. “Hell, if I’d known girls could be that good with a strap-on, I wouldn’t have bothered with men for a long time.”

“Well,” Bobbi muses, “I might be something of an anomaly. You never know.”

“Either way,” Christine shrugs. “How’d you like me while I eat you out?”

“Mm, well, I’m not feeling like doing much, so how about I just sit up against the bed here and you get comfortable on your stomach?” Bobbi suggests.

Nodding, Christine begins to adjust herself accordingly. “Whatever you want. You deserve to be eaten out for hours after fucking me like that.”

“Oh, aren’t you the sweetest,” Bobbi chuckles, pushing herself up and flopping dramatically against the headboard, legs spread wide.

Christine snorts. “Not for everyone, but for you.” She starts to kiss her way up Bobbi’s thighs, slipping her fingers beneath the waistband of Bobbi’s panties to begin pulling them off.

“Now you’re just _trying_ to spoil me,” Bobbi says. “It’s sorta cute.”

Christine grins, nuzzling at Bobbi’s skin. “Like I keep saying, you deserve whatever you want. Shall I get rid of these?” She nods at Bobbi’s panties.

“It’d probably be easier,” Bobbi smirks. “I mean, not _impossible_ , but easier. Besides, when you’re done I want to kiss you when you’ve still got me smeared all over.”

“ _God_ , you’re hot,” growls Christine, and pulls off Bobbi’s panties to start mouthing at her immediately. “Want my tongue or fingers?” she asks. “Or neither?”

“I want whatever you think is going to work best,” Bobbi declares.

Nodding, Christine moves back in to lick up and down Bobbi’s slit eagerly. She alternates between that and licking and sucking at her clit, not doing anything for too long or too roughly. She’s still testing, seeing what Bobbi likes.

Which, luckily, is a little bit of everything. She likes the way that Christine is touching her, she likes the way her mouth feels -Bobbi likes all of it enough that she can’t decide quite what to request. But then it comes to her, because this is nice but it’s not nearly enough yet. “A little harder,” she declares.

Christine makes a noise in the back of her throat that’s meant to be acknowledgement and makes her licks rougher, giving Bobbi more pressure. After a few minutes of that, she slips her tongue inside Bobbi to see how she’ll react.

Bobbi nods, lazily grabbing Christine’s hair and pushing her forward. “Good, good,” she urges.

Moaning happily at Bobbi’s praise, Christine starts to thrust her tongue into Bobbi, trying to lick at as much of her as possible. She moves her fingers up to circle her clit as well.

“Yes,” Bobbi breathes, bucking her hips against Christine’s mouth. “You weren’t kidding, you _are_ good at this.”

Pausing long enough to smirk up at Bobbi and say “Told you,” Christine then continues what she was doing, using her other hand to hold onto Bobbi’s hip as best she can. She suspects that Bobbi’s movements mean she’s getting closer.

Bobbi doesn’t make it easy to keep a hold of her, with the way she’s writhing almost demandingly. “God, it’s hot when a girl can actually live up to her own arrogance,” she murmurs.

At that, Christine hums and rubs at her more, doing her best to hold on despite how much Bobbi’s moving around.

It’s a sort of slow, steady build for Bobbi, it usually is, but that also means she can alert Christine, and she does. “I’m nearly there,” she mutters, sighing with mock-impatience. “C’mon, you can do it, I know you can.”

With a snort, Christine doubles down, circling Bobbi’s clit in a steady rhythm as she licks in and out of her more firmly. She can feel Bobbi starting to tense up in that telltale way and she’s determined to make her regret being so mouthy. (Although, of course, Christine likes it.)

Those specific attentions make Bobbi suck in a breath and let it out sharply, grabbing at Christine’s hair as encouragement and an anchor both. “Yeah, yeah, keep doing that, you feel so good…”

While continuing her ministrations, Christine moans, because Bobbi’s words and her hand in her hair are making her feel good too and plus, Bobbi is delicious. She was sort of kidding earlier when she offered to eat her out for hours, but now she’s thinking that might not be such a bad idea.

Bobbi echoes that moan, throwing her head back against the bedframe and finally letting herself give in to her orgasm. There’s a good few seconds of throaty screams before, almost weakly, she whispers “Holy shit.”

Grinning, Christine pauses long enough to say “Time for an encore” and then starts licking at Bobbi’s clit again.

“Oh my god,” Bobbi murmurs, but it doesn’t take much of Christine’s effort to work her up again. It’s a compliment that she feels like she actually _wants_ to come again, even just mentally - so often (mostly with guys) she’d rather one and done, just because dragging it out isn’t worth it. She’s dimly aware that this might be Christine’s way of sticking it to her, though.

Which she’s not going to say out loud, because the phrase “sticking it to” someone has no place in sex.

Christine gleefully works at Bobbi, more gently since she’s already sensitive. Not only is she happy to give Bobbi another orgasm, she enjoys the feeling of surprising her.

Bobbi whimpers, pushing her hips against Christine’s mouth almost in spite of herself. She’s almost surprised how turned on she is, but in a very good way. “Please?” she asks, her earlier forcefulness disappeared.

“Of course, gorgeous,” murmurs Christine, sucking Bobbi’s clit into her mouth.

“ _God_ ,” Bobbi groans, her free hand seeming to lift of its own accord and only to slam down on the bed beside her. “God, yes, I -”

Christine takes that opportunity to slip one of her fingers inside Bobbi.

“ _Fuck_ , Christine,” Bobbi pants, wriggling her hips with hopes that she’d help Christine find the exact right spot.

Christine chuckles and adds another finger, doing her best to find Bobbi’s G-spot (that wasn’t quite her original plan for this round, but she’s always happy to do that for a girl). Finally she presses just the right way and Bobbi shrieks.

“You’re fucking incredible,” Bobbi says, letting her head loll to one side as she regards Christine.

Easing her fingers gently out, Christine smirks and, after sticking them in her mouth to clean them off, sits up and kisses Bobbi on the lips, as requested. “Enjoy yourself?”

“Fuck yeah,” Bobbi mumbles, lazily stroking down Christine’s side before turning on her side and draping a leg over Christine’s (it’s not quite straddling, just momentarily claiming).

Humming happily, Christine nuzzles into Bobbi and murmurs, “Good. I like knowing I’ve made a girl happy.”

“You have,” Bobbi says very assuredly. “You’re so much better than what I imagined when I set out tonight.”

“As are you.” Christine runs her fingers over Bobbi’s skin. “You’re a sex goddess with that strap-on, god.”

“I’m incredibly flattered,” Bobbi chuckles.

“I am too,” replies Christine. “Thanks for taking me home. Happy belated Valentine’s.” She kisses Bobbi’s cheek and smirks so Bobbi knows she’s partially kidding.

“You, too,” Bobbi chuckles. “I like this a lot better.”


	8. we try hard to play the game 'cause we just want to feel something good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> True to her word, Skye indulges Jemma in some hair dryer-charged post- _Rocky Horror_ sillysexy shenanigans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows [why wear my heart on my sleeve when it looks so good in your hand](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/7491464).

“All right, just hold off for _five minutes_ while I pack a bag, you animals,” snarks Fitz as they all troop into the apartment. Trip’s waiting for him in the car, since Fitz is planning to stay for as short a time as possible.

“Do you really think so little of us?” Jemma says, pulling her wig off and starting to unpin her hair as she perches on the arm of the couch and pouts at him.

“I’m fond of both of you, but you’ve barely been able to keep your hands off of each other for the past fifteen minutes,” replies Fitz, gesturing to how Skye’s sat down next to Jemma and has started kissing her neck.

“You’re not helping the point,” Jemma hisses to Skye.

Skye pouts. “But you taste so _good._ ”

“Thank you, darling,” Jemma murmurs, preening. “But I’ll still taste good in five minutes.”

“Fiiiiiiiine.” Skye moves back, settling for running her hand down Jemma’s arm.

Fitz emerges from his bedroom with a duffel bag and says airily, “I’ll see you both tomorrow, then,” before booking it out the door.

“You’re uncannily good at frightening him,” Jemma observes.

“It’s a natural talent.” Skye grins. “I promise to only use my powers for good.”

“Well,” Jemma hums, turning to nuzzle into Skye’s neck, “given how fast he ran out of here he’s doubtless already in Trip’s car and in no risk of running back in on us. I vote we take advantage.”

“Ooh, I like how you think,” Skye says, resuming her task of kissing Jemma’s neck.

“Get comfortable,” Jemma murmurs, giggling. “I’ll get the nail polish.”

“Okay.” Skye moves so she’s settled onto the actual couch cushion and drapes herself over it.

Jemma’s only gone a moment, and when she returns it’s with a bottle of her brightest red polish. (She doesn’t use it on her fingers ever, but it’s got its uses elsewise.) “May I get your stockings off?” she asks lightly.

“Mmm, okay!” Skye stretches her legs out with a grin.

“I promise this wasn’t just a way to get your pants off, too,” Jemma giggles as she plops down on the sofa and reaches to shimmy Skye’s shorts off before tending to her tights.

Skye laughs. “I know, but it worked out pretty well for you, huh?”

“Mm, it did,” Jemma says, practically folding over at the waist to kiss up Skye’s inner thigh.

Sighing, Skye melts a little at the contact. “You’re so good to me.”

Jemma purrs, nuzzling Skye’s skin for a moment. “You deserve it. I love having these silly nights with you.”

“I do too,” murmurs Skye, letting her hand slip down to pet Jemma’s hair. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Jemma replies, arching against Skye’s hand before she sits abruptly back up and uncaps the polish.

Skye obligingly moves her feet so they’re easily held. “Do you want me to do yours too?”

“Mmmaybe,” Jemma hums. “One thing at a time, I think.” She brushes polish over Skye’s pinky nail, thoughtful. “We do have all night to ourselves.”

“Okay, just let me know,” replies Skye. “I wanna make you happy, too. You deserve that.”

“You’re the best at doing that,” Jemma giggles. “Promise.” She leans to kiss Skye’s knee in thanks, careful not to smudge the nails she’s already painted.

“Good,” sighs Skye, utterly content. “‘s important to me.”

“We’re a bit disgusting, aren’t we?”

Chuckling, Skye nods. “Kinda. But it’s okay, I like it.”

“I do too,” Jemma agrees. “I just think it’s funny that Fitz thinks he needs to run and hide from all our sexual content, when it’s this that’d probably make him sicker.”

“Yeah, we’re pretty much too sappy to be real,” chirps Skye. “I can just hear him now: ‘Ugh, _feeeeeeelings,_ get it away from me!’”

“We’d break him,” Jemma smirks.

Skye giggles. “Pretty much.” She falls quiet for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of Jemma taking care of her.

Jemma smiles and just concentrates on her self-appointed task a while, but eventually she looks back up at Skye and says, “You’re gorgeous, you know.”

“So are you,” replies Skye, smiling. “Sometimes I just look at you and I think, holy shit, how did I get such a beautiful girl?”

“I don’t know, I’m still wondering myself,” Jemma murmurs. “You’re all… amazing and you’re so _you_. It’s something truly special, I think.”

“God, you’re the sweetest.” Skye smiles down at her.

“Thank you,” Jemma says proudly, painting Skye’s last toenail with a flourish. “Wanna show me how sweet?”

“Course,” says Skye, wiggling her toes a little (carefully, so as not to smudge the ones that are still wet). “Anything you want.”

“My toes first,” Jemma declares. “Then, I vote we get that hair dryer out. To make sure our nails are dry. And… whatnot.”

Smirking, Skye slides carefully down to the floor and reaches for the polish. “Oh, totally, that’s super important,” she says playfully.

“I mean, it’s better than missing one that’s still wet and getting it all over the sheets,” Jemma shrugs, completely missing the vague innuendos in her words. Apparently deciding it’s easier than removing her tights, she wiggles her toes out the holes in the bottom (already bigger than usual, because she can’t be bothered to replace tights that only have holes where her shoes will cover them).

“You’re adorable,” giggles Skye, leaning over to kiss her before she gets to work on her nails.

“What!” Jemma exclaims, tilting her head. “I mean, I am, thank you, but - you said that like you have a reason why.”

“Oh, I have a theory, is all,” replies Skye with a wicked grin.

“Bunnies?” Jemma asks, feeling utterly clueless.

“You’ll see. I promise, it’s something nice.” Skye pretends to be intensely focused on painting Jemma’s middle toe.

“I know it’s nice if it comes from you,” Jemma murmurs.

Skye hums happily. “You’re sweet. Okay, that’s that foot done, now the other one!”

“Whatever you say,” Jemma says cheerfully.

Skye makes quick work of her other foot, then, after giving Jemma another quick kiss, stands up and heads for the bedroom. She comes back a moment later with the hairdryer. “Okay, part two!” she says cheerily, flicking it on and aiming it at Jemma’s toes.

Jemma squeals, bursting into laughter. “You’ve got it on cold, silly!”

“Oops, shit. Sorry!” Skye moves the switch to the correct setting and continues. “My bad,” she adds with a silly grin.

“S’fine,” Jemma murmurs, grinning as she wiggles her toes under the hot air.

“Mine are probably pretty dry by now, but you can blast ‘em for a minute once yours are done if you wanna. Turnabout is fair play and all.”

“Might do,” Jemma muses. “Would you - I mean, you don’t have to stay on my toes.”

Skye laughs. “Okay. I thought you might be into that.” She gently redirects the air so that it’s blowing on Jemma’s bare legs. “How’s that?”

“Uh-huh,” Jemma pants, instinctively spreading them wider to get more of the sensation. “Thank you, you’re lovely.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” murmurs Skye, delighted by Jemma’s obvious enjoyment. “Do you want me to help you out of that dress so I can do this some more?”

“Uh-huh,” Jemma repeats. “If, if you wanted we could… bedroom?”

Grinning, Skye nods. “All right, let’s go!” She unplugs the hairdryer and extends a hand.

Jemma accepts said hand immediately, giving a squeeze and practically skipping in the direction of the bedroom. From behind Fitz’s nearly-closed door, she hears exactly one vaguely confused mew and it prompts her to giggle. “Griffith must be wondering what all this traipsing about is,” she decides.

“Oh my god, the mythical cat!” says Skye, giggling. “I swear she’s hiding from me on purpose.”

“She’s just shy,” Jemma says, rolling her eyes playfully. “She doesn’t come out for anyone.”

“Okay, just checking,” Skye replies. “I’m less hurt now.”

“Aw, love,” Jemma coos, leaning to kiss Skye’s cheek. “Can I make it up to you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say no.” Skye bats her eyelashes exaggeratedly.

“How about…” Jemma trails off, thinking as exaggeratedly as she can. “How about you get me undressed and I you, then you tell me exactly what to do.”

Skye reaches to pull off Jemma’s mostly-unbuttoned dress. “Sounds like fun,” she murmurs with a smirk. “I’m sure you’ll be very good.”

“Mm, I will, I _promise_ ,” Jemma says, going for the hidden zipper of Skye’s bustier. “I want to be, for you.”

Sighing, Skye arches her back towards Jemma’s touch. “You always are.”

“Thank you,” Jemma hums. Playfully, she goes to kiss Skye, tugging on her bottom lip.

Skye moans a little, reaching to pull Jemma closer. “‘s nice,” she murmurs between kisses.

“Good,” Jemma declares, nuzzling Skye’s neck. “Where else d’you want?”

“Mm, I think right now I’d like to explore what we were doing earlier a little more,” says Skye teasingly. “How about you lie down on the bed and spread out? On your back.”

“That sounds nice,” Jemma murmurs happily, flouncing over to do just that. She starfishes for a lack of better orders, expectant as anything.

“Thank you,” says Skye, going to plug in the hairdryer and then starting to blow warm air on Jemma’s torso. “How’s this?”

Jemma wiggles, shutting her eyes to really soak it in. “I like it,” she says.

“Mmm, good.” Skye does her best to keep the amount of air even, moving the dryer slowly down Jemma’s stomach and over her hips until she reaches her thighs. “Wanna spread these a little for me?”

Despite the warmth currently being directed at her, Jemma shivers - it drives her wild when Skye talks to her like that. She doesn’t respond, just does as she’s asked, not spreading as wide as possible but giving a bit better access.

“Thanks, honey,” says Skye, gently running the dryer up the inside of one thigh and down the other. She knows how sensitive Jemma is there, even with fishnets on.

And true to what’s expected, Jemma all but wails, her hips pushing up and her hands fisting in the bedcovers. “Yeah-huh, that,” she murmurs.

“God, if I’d known you’d react this way I would’ve suggested this a long time ago.” Skye briefly runs the dryer down Jemma’s calves before moving back to her thighs for a few minutes. Then she moves up over her stomach and, after a brief stop at her breasts (since Jemma’s still wearing her bra, Skye doesn’t spend too much time there), she works her way slowly up and down Jemma’s left arm.

“Just thought of it,” Jemma says. “Figured it might… yeah, what you’re doing, that. That.”

Skye chuckles. “Of course.” She moves to the other arm, reaching to stroke down Jemma’s side with the hand not using the dryer.

Jemma feels her body go tense at that, but the nice kind of tense, the ready-to-go kind of tense. “I _really_ like this,” she murmurs, though it’s obvious.

“I couldn’t tell,” Skye replies with a smirk. “I’m glad you do. I like making you feel good.”

“Me too,” Jemma sighs happily. “I mean, I like doing that for you, too. But feeling this way is nice. Really nice.”

Moving the dryer back down to her thighs, Skye waits a moment before asking, “So...as far as making me feel good does, you up for oral?”

“Uh-huh!” Jemma’s eyes are bright, and her voice is as eager as anything. “Please let me? I miss how you taste.”

“You realize it’s only been like two days since you’ve eaten me out?”

“Don’t care, I miss it,” Jemma mumbles.

Skye laughs warmly. “You’re adorable. Okay, how about we try something a little different. I’m gonna stand next to the bed and you’re gonna have your head hanging off upside down. That sound all right to you?”

“I might get a head rush,” Jemma muses, “but I wanna try it.” Nodding with determination, she rearranges herself appropriately, then blinks up at Skye as if to say _please_?

And that just makes Skye feel warm all over. “Hang on a sec, I have to ditch the panties,” she says, doing so and kicking them into the corner before moving herself into position.

“One of these days I wanna try it with your panties on,” Jemma mumbles, smirking.

Skye can’t help the way her breathing gets a little ragged at that thought. “Yeah, okay,” she says, nodding harder than she probably should. “But not right now.”

“Whatever you want,” Jemma agrees, straining to pull Skye closer and kiss her.

“ _Yeah_ ,” gasps Skye, “yeah, like that.”

Jemma smirks, reaching around to grab at Skye’s hips and hold her still while she teases, mostly just kisses and licks right now but a nip thrown in every little while for good measure.

Skye moans softly, enjoying Jemma’s teasing, and starts wiggling ever so slightly in Jemma’s grip. Mostly she’s trying to press closer, encourage Jemma to keep going. “That’s so good, Jem.”

That enthusiasm is what Jemma likes to hear (and feel) so she can’t help but smile about it. “I wanna,” she says against Skye’s center.

“You are,” murmurs Skye. “Please, Jem, more?”

Jemma nods, holding Skye tight and mouthing at her more determinedly. “‘Course,” she mumbles, voice muffled to near-nonsense.

Whimpering, Skye gasps, “Thank you, thank you, good girl…” She keeps it up, a murmured litany of nonsense, as Jemma continues.

Jemma whimpers herself, zeroing in on Skye’s clit and listening for clues that what she’s doing is working.

Which Skye gives, moaning louder the more Jemma touches her clit and pressing as close to her as she physically can. “M-more, yeah…”

That’s the easiest request of all to fulfill, and Jemma does, circling it with her tongue before biting down gently. “S’good?” she murmurs.

Skye squeals. “ _Yes!_ ”

“Just lemme…” Let her repeat that, a bit more intense this time, before going back to lapping at Skye’s nub and humming all the while.

And after a minute, that does it, Skye moaning through her climax before finally sagging forward against the mattress, her hands resting on the bed to hold her upright. “God,” she gasps when she’s finally calmed, “you’re incredible.”

“ _Gosh_ ,” Jemma giggles, sounding as blissfully dazed as if she’d just come too. “I wanna be. I love making you feel like you feel right now.”

“Well, you’re kickass at it,” says Skye with a lazy grin, leaning down to try and kiss any part of Jemma she can reach. But instead, she loses her balance and tumbles headfirst onto the bed, narrowly avoiding landing on top of Jemma. “Shit!” she says, giggling from surprise.

Daringly, Jemma rolls onto her side, kisses wherever she can reach given Skye’s current position. “Careful there,” she teases.

“I’m always careful,” retorts Skye, squirming around until she’s on her side facing Jemma.

“That _so_ ,” Jemma chuckles, wrapping a leg around Skye’s hips and pressing close. “Would that explain why you nearly just - just smooshed me?”

“Yeah, it was totally planned,” says Skye breezily. “I rolled out of the way. I was planning on doing that all along.”

“Just to exhibit your dashing physical skills?”

“Uh, yeah. I have mad skills.” Skye kisses her on the mouth.

“My goodness,” Jemma exclaims, grinning. “I can’t very well argue when you’re doing _that_.”

Skye chuckles. “Good, my evil plan is working!” She kisses Jemma again, harder, and one of her hands slips down to caress Jemma’s stomach.

“ _Hah_ ,” Jemma scoffs. “Your so-called plan just plays into exactly what I want too. Not very evil, love.” She reaches to place her hand over Skye’s and guide it in the right direction (down).

Which Skye allows, because that’s where she was going to head anyway. As Jemma moves her hand, Skye focuses on pressing kisses to the side of Jemma’s neck. She’s determined to make Jemma feel just as good as she does.

Jemma moans, wrapping around Skye as best she can and humming insistently. “Please?” she whispers.

“Ooh, that’s nice,” murmurs Skye teasingly. “I’d like to hear more of that, I think.” She reaches around behind Jemma to unhook her bra, then toss it away before sucking one of Jemma’s nipples into her mouth.

“Please kiss me,” Jemma breathes. “Please suck on my, my breasts, suck on all of me, please do exactly what you’re doing but more.”

Skye moans and does just that, spending a few minutes first on one and then the other, leaving bruises on Jemma with her mouth wherever she can. After she feels like her breasts have been taken care of, she plants one last kiss on both nipples before starting to work her way downward.

Impatiently, Jemma threads fingers in Skye’s hair; she doesn’t quite _pull_ , but she doesn’t go light, either. “Uh--huh, yeah,” she mutters.

“Good?” asks Skye, pausing just before she reaches Jemma’s panties. Of _course_ she can tell Jemma’s enjoying herself, but she likes to be absolutely sure she’s doing the right thing.

“Yeah, s’very good,” Jemma mumbles, wiggling against Skye.

Skye nuzzles her affectionately. “Good. Hey, so about that hair dryer…”

Jemma sits up slightly, eyes wide. “What about it?”

“Well, you liked it so much I thought I’d give you more of it.” Skye grins.

“Would you really?” Jemma asks, sounding like it’s the greatest treat in the world.

“‘Course,” says Skye, leaning up again to kiss her on the lips. “Anything for my girl. How about I tie you up first?”

Jemma lets out a long, happy sigh, nodding vehemently. “I wanna be the best for you,” she says.

“You are,” says Skye, running her hand down Jemma’s arm. “How about you take off those tights for me, then?”

Slightly mystified, Jemma swings her legs up so she can get a good angle on her fishnets, then unclips them from her garter belt and starts rolling them off slowly. She doesn’t say anything, just watches Skye’s face.

Skye’s expression is one of awe: she loves Jemma so much and she loves that she trusts her like this. Once Jemma’s got them mostly off, she holds out her hand. “I’ll take those, please.”

Jemma chews on her lip - not nervous, just curious - and passes them over. “How do you want me?” she asks softly.

“On your back, hands over your head, wrists together,” says Skye. They’ve done this kind of thing before, not hardcore but just dipping their toes in, and she knows Jemma likes this pose.

It’s familiar enough that it makes Jemma smile almost nostalgically as she gets into position, trying to maneuver herself as efficiently and precisely as possible. “All right,” she hums.

“Good girl,” murmurs Skye, leaning over her to use the tights to tie Jemma’s wrists together. They usually just use a scarf, but tonight this seems appropriate. Once it’s done, she presses another kiss to Jemma’s lips and then says, “Now I’m gonna get the hairdryer, okay?”

Jemma lets out a shuddery sigh, smiling and getting comfortable. “Okay,” she says, as completely trusting as anything.

Skye grabs the hairdryer and flicks it on, directing a stream of warm air at Jemma’s breasts. “Like that?” she teases.

Jemma nods again, doing everything in her power to keep from giving over to how that feels completely. “Yeah,” she agrees, shifting her hips and arching her back.

“Aw, you’re so cute when you’re all squirmy.” Skye grins and moves the hairdryer around, circling first one breast and then the other, traveling up and down Jemma’s arms. It’ll be fun to work her up for a while before getting to the main event.

“I just…” Jemma trails off, apparently at a loss for words and not quite in the moment enough yet that she isn’t a bit disgruntled by that. “I feel nice.” She shrugs as best she can with her arms strung up like that.

“I can tell,” says Skye gently. “I want you to feel nice, honey. You were so good to me and you deserve a reward.” As she speaks, she moves the air back down Jemma’s body until it’s ghosting over her stomach, then her thighs.

Jemma exhales noisily, rolling her body to meet the air as best she can. “Thank you,” she intones. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Skye replies, not removing the dryer until Jemma’s wiggling continuously. Then she reaches down to gently grasp her hips and asks, “You ready for more?”

Jemma feels her stomach flip, and she nods, “Please may I have…?”

“Of course!” And with that, Skye reaches for Jemma’s panties and pulls them off before pressing a kiss to her center.

“ _Oh_ ,” Jemma shrieks, hips bucking against Skye’s mouth. “Yes, yes please.”

Skye hums happily and starts licking at Jemma. She really could spend all day doing this, if Jemma wanted her to; she loves Jemma’s reactions more than anything. Swirling her tongue around Jemma’s clit, she watches eagerly to see what Jemma will do.

Jemma whimpers, tugging at the tights (but not too hard, because she’s not sure how sturdy they are, being inexpensive fishnets and all) and pushing against Skye’s mouth as best she can. “Dammit, Skye, I - please? You’re…”

Normally Skye would tease her and ask something like _I’m what?_ but she can tell Jemma’s well on her way to incoherency, which is super hot. So instead she just murmurs, “Anything you want, honey,” and begins to lick her way inside Jemma.

“Thank you,” Jemma sighs, letting her eyes shut a moment so she can focus more on the sensation of it all. Skye’s got this _way_ with her that she sort of never let herself dream of, and it’s just a pleasure each and every time.

Skye moves to Jemma’s clit, gently sliding first one finger and then two inside her. She’s already pretty worked up, so it’s not hard, and Skye can tell it won’t be long now.

“Oh-h-hhh,” Jemma shouts, turning her head to the side in an attempt to hide her face (it doesn’t particularly work). “Uh-huh, yeah.”

Enjoying Jemma’s reactions, Skye thrusts harder, sucks Jemma’s clit into her mouth, until…

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jemma exclaims, her voice going as high as ever. “Fuck, Skye, I’m…” Having what appears to be one of her best orgasms in quite some time (and that’s saying something, considering how spectacular all of her orgasms have been in recent months).

Skye can’t help but marvel at Jemma, at how beautiful she is. She’s gentle as Jemma comes back down, cleaning her up and then sliding up to kiss her lips. “I love you,” she says softly.

“I love you too,” Jemma purrs, shifting as best she can to press against Skye.

And the moment, sweet though it is, is interrupted by a very quizzical “Meow?”

Jumping, Skye’s head whips around, looking for the source of the noise. “Is that…?”

Jemma wrinkles her nose. “Unless a stranger cat came in through the window?” she says, her words still slightly slurred.

Skye looks behind them. The cat is grey, with giant inquisitive green eyes and a tail that’s question-mark shaped. It looks like the descriptions of Griffith that Skye has heard, anyway. “No, I think that’s your cat.”

“I’d say we must’ve been very loud, but that hasn’t got her out before,” Jemma chuckles. She lifts her head a bit more, trying to make eye contact with the cat. “Hello, sweetie, are you looking for something?”

The cat mews again, actually approaching the bed with an air of interest.

That makes Skye start giggling, quickly slapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, I think she’s confused about why you’re tied up, Jem.”

“I doubt she has any idea what’s going on,” Jemma says lightly. “Though she might be confused about why we’re not jumping to pet her.” As if to prove this point, Griffith leaps up onto the bed and stares at the girls, almost challengingly.

“Okay, c’mere, weirdo.” Skye clicks her tongue and offers a finger for Griffith to rub her face against.

“Good grief,” Jemma murmurs wonderingly. “She’s actually indulging you.”

True enough, the cat is pushing against Skye’s finger, walking a step or two and then repeating the process from a different angle.

“Cool,” says Skye. “Glad to know I’ve passed the test, or something.”

“It’s a compliment,” Jemma agrees with a bright smile. “Do you want to snuggle, Griffith?”

The cat makes no response, which is reasonable as she likely understood none of that.

“I have an idea.” Skye grins mischievously and moves her hand away from Griffith to start petting down Jemma’s side.

“Darling, what are you doing?” Jemma asks, though she can’t say she minds.

“I’m making her jealous, duh.” It’s totally obvious to Skye.

Jemma laughs, but after a few seconds she has to concede that it seems to be working. Griffith gently climbs up on her stomach, kneading for a solid thirty seconds before curling up right in the middle of the action. “You realize the odds are that she’ll stay there for an hour if we let her,” Jemma laughs.

“Yeah. But I mean, I don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not!”

“Besides,” adds Skye, smirking, “it’s sorta fun to leave you tied up like this. Especially because it’s all so goofy.”

“I don’t know which part is funnier,” Jemma agrees, “that Griffith chose this moment to make her appearance or that it’s the starkest contrast between the domestic and the decidedly kinky.”

Skye laughs. “Yeah, I guess we’re just weird like that, all of us.” She uses one hand to pet Griffith and the other to pet Jemma.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	9. she's found a treasure with diamonds and golden rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorelei takes Raina up on her offer for a night of thoroughly pagan, wholly natural debauchery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows [but you expect me to jump up on board with you and ride off into your delusional sunset](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/8279092) but refers to an invitation made in [let me paint a picture for you then I'll have to teach you to see it](archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/7936815).

“I was expecting something a little less normal,” Lorelei declares when the door opens.

“What,” Raina returns with an innocent shrug, “bright pink paint? Maybe a moat and drawbridge?”

She steps aside to let the other woman enter, keenly aware of the scrutiny being applied to everything. It’s true, her house is deceptively normal: the walls are yellow, the floor is a respectable wood-looking laminate, the only pictures on the wall are a Georgia O’Keefe and one of Monet’s _Water Lilies_.

“It was a good deal,” Raina offers, though she can sense it doesn’t really matter. “And I like living where I can have a garden.”

“Of course you do,” Lorelei says. She glances down the hall with a calculatedly aloof expression that’s her version of apprehensive. “Am I going to have to worry about some weird roommate stumbling down the hall and interrupting us?”

“Debbie doesn’t live here anymore,” Raina says.

Lorelei knows better than to press (though she refuses to show how amused she is by how sinister that sounded), so instead she murmurs, “Good. Then nobody’s going to mind if I do this,” and sheds not only her coat but her dress in one go.

Raina smirks. “Exhibitionist.”

“You’re not complaining,” Lorelei retorts.

“Whyever would I do that,” Raina hums. To say she’s looking Lorelei over is an understatement, and to say Lorelei is inviting it is an understatement twice over. She poses and smiles and she’s so utterly self-possessed that it’d be likely to make anyone else nervous.

Raina is not anyone else.

Instead of hurrying to get undressed herself, she saunters into the living room and gracefully lowers herself onto the sofa, then pats the cushion next to her. “Come join,” she says. “Drape yourself over me however you like.”

“You’re adorable,” Lorelei coos. She’s not entirely naked, of course, though for this occasion she’s chosen a skimpy beige lingerie set, accented by a gold chain loosely draped in all the right places. “I revise my earlier statement. I like my subs switchy at a moment’s notice.”

“I thought you said Nazi boy described himself switchy?” Raina asks.

“Hence, moment’s notice,” Lorelei drawls. She eases onto the sofa, lays her head in Raina’s lap. “He claimed to play both ways, but he didn’t act like it.”

“That’ll be a fun challenge, then,” Raina says.

“Must we right now?” Lorelei sighs.

“Mm, I don’t know,” Raina hums, tracing the line of the body chain all down Lorelei’s chest and over her hips. “Did you want to get to something more…” She tugs the chain where it drops between Lorelei’s legs. “Satisfying?”

Lorelei shifts against Raina, staring up at her with a challenging sort of expression. “Pull it more toward you, not just up,” she instructs.

So Raina does, using both hands to really put pressure – that’s what she’s trying to do, of course, put pressure and friction against Lorelei’s clit – and giggling. “You must have had this just waiting around for me,” she suggests, nodding to the chain. “I can’t imagine anyone else you would want to see you like this.”

Lorelei says nothing, just drives her hips against the chain urgently.

“I mean, like you’re needy like the rest of us,” Raina continues. “Although I doubt the chains really get much play when you’re the dominatrix.”

“Unlike some of us, I _am_ capable of having completely normal sex,” Lorelei retorts.

“Because you seduce completely normal men,” Raina counters. “Which I understand your reasons for, but the boredom that follows is the whole reason you have me. To make up for it.”

It’s an almost uncomfortably good point.

“Less talking,” Lorelei commands. “More working.” Working to get her off, which Raina understands perfectly. That’s sort of how this usually goes with them – they both orgasm, but Lorelei orgasms more, and that’s fine. Raina figures she probably deserves it.

Which is why, for example, she’s listening to all of Lorelei’s tell-tale moans (every one of them overly theatrical, but none of them fake) to guide her, taking note of her shallowing breaths and racing heart and flushing skin. Lorelei is special, and watching her let go is as good for Raina as getting off herself.

Besides, she knows she’ll be rewarded for her diligence, and that’s exciting too.

When Lorelei finally comes, she grabs Raina’s left hand and sucks her thumb into her mouth, bites down on it over the edge of the relatively-newly-tattooed rose so hard that Raina’s moans are louder than her own. It’s a frantic finish to an almost luxuriating act, and it suits them both perfectly.

There's always something vulnerable about the moment after orgasm, Raina thinks, like it's the moment when even people as guarded as Lorelei show you who they really are. This breathless, bare Lorelei with her eyes just slightly glazed over and her lips parted, her hair mussed and her skin pinker in some spots than others, this Lorelei is so _real_ that seeing her is a gift.

As usual, Lorelei doesn’t say anything until she’s recovered, she just stays sprawled out over Raina’s lap waiting for her heart to slow to its normal tempo, her smile getting increasingly smug with each passing moment. When it’s reached its full smugness potential, she drawls, “I hope the weed you got is just as exceptional.”

“As if I’d smoke anything less than,” Raina retorts, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.

 

* * *

 

They’re under the stars, beside the firepit that of _course_ Raina has on a blanket that Lorelei insisted on, and they’re kissing lazily when Lorelei says, “Aren’t you going to let me ravish you like a proper virgin sacrifice?”

Raina snorts. “We’re playacting tonight, I see.”

“Well, this _is_ half an altar,” Lorelei murmurs, feeling more mischievous than she does with really any man she seduces.

“And you _are_ a goddess,” Raina whispers reverently. That’s something of a joke on one hand, a wholly Rainalike dramatic exaggeration wrapped in subby pretty bedroom language, but there’s more truth behind it than she bothers to explain, too. She eases out from under Lorelei, smirking the whole while, and kneels with her head bowed in supplication.

(This is the part where normally Lorelei would enjoy hearing things about how the other party - a man, most like - wasn’t worthy of her, but the last and only time that Raina tried that sort of talk, Lorelei had struck her across the cheek and hissed, “Right now you belong to me, but if you weren’t good enough to do, I would be the one to tell you.” She’d actually meant it, though it surprised her.)

Lorelei taps a finger against her lips like she’s making an important decision. “Dress off,” she orders.

Raina rises onto her knees, unzips the dress and pulls it over her head without getting up. “And these?” she murmurs, gesturing just slightly to her pink floral push-up bra and panties.

“Away with them,” Lorelei declares. “I don’t care if your neighbors see.”

“Conveniently, neither do I,” Raina drawls.

Lorelei laughs. That simultaneous confidence and sense of “fuck it” is one of her favorite things about the other woman. “Hand over the toybox,” she says.

“Of course,” Raina says with a smile, obliging. Lorelei has never been to her house before, but Lorelei is well-acquainted with the toybox. That travels.

“How much are you going to squirm?”

“As much as you make me,” Raina purrs.

“You’re arrogant _and_ a flatterer,” Lorelei declares, reaching to twist one of Raina’s nipples so abruptly she has no choice but to gasp. While she’s apparently recovering from that, Lorelei shoves her back against the ground, admiring the way her skin glows in the firelight.

“And you’re mean,” Raina retorts, though there’s obvious amusement in the words.

“Just for that, I’m going to make you wait,” Lorelei announces, rummaging in the box and emerging victorious with red rope. “Wrists and ankles together, darling.”

Raina huffs, but she does as she’s told, reaching as far above her head as she can and pointing her toes. “Shame there’s no alligator pit to carry me over,” she quips.

“I’ll make do,” Lorelei shrugs. She loops rope around Raina’s ankles, then her knees, tight enough that Raina makes the poutiest noise she can manage.

“Hey,” she hums indignantly.

“Don’t complain, sweetie,” Lorelei murmurs, pulling a rope up between Raina’s legs fast enough it probably leaves a burn and tying it so tight it almost hurts. In the best way. There’s a knot pressed right against her clit, and if she shifts her hips just so that might get her job done by itself. “You’re gonna make it.”

“You just can’t help but push people to their limits,” Raina replies.

Lorelei shakes her head, grinning. “You wouldn’t have it any other way,” she coos as she winds rope up around Raina’s hips and ribs and tits. “You get bored more easily than I do.”

“Fair.” Raina wiggles her hips just to test the ropes, stares down at her bound breasts with some measure of awe. “And hell, at least you know what you’re doing.”

“Compliments get you everywhere,” Lorelei croons. She makes to sit on Raina’s chest, wrapping rope around her outstretched arms elbow-to-wrist, and she just keeps on smiling that dangerous smile.

It’s a little addictive.

“I feel like I know where this is going,” Raina murmurs, flashing a look that’s far too smug for someone so tied she’s practically immobile.

“ _Do_ you,” Lorelei exclaims, but instead of waiting for an answer she rises onto her knees and repositions herself above Raina’s mouth. She hasn’t shed the body chain, and she’s curious if that’s going to make this interesting.

“Yes, please,” Raina purrs, and though it’s a tiny bit of a strain on her neck she leans her head up to kiss Lorelei’s center, scraping her teeth against her clit.

“I figure I make you work for it,” Lorelei says coolly, rolling her hips. “You’re welcome to come any time you can, but each of your orgasms is one more you owe me, and considering your mouth is about the only thing you can do anything with right now, I hope you’re comfortable.”

Raina shudders happily. “Yes, my goddess,” she intones, immediately setting about tongue-fucking Lorelei and twisting her own hips as she does.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Lorelei murmurs, sounding as startled by this as she always does.

And just like _she_ always does, Raina full-body preens, which has the added bonus of making the rope cut straight into her, which in turn makes her moan against Lorelei’s flesh. “Y’re tasty,” Raina counters, muffled and bliss-slurred all at once.

“I’m starting to wonder if I even need to get you high,” Lorelei teases. “You sound well on your way to fucked up without it.”

Raina lets her head fall back against the ground so she can be heard more clearly. “My weed, my house, my high,” she declares archly.

“Of course,” Lorelei rolls her eyes. “What do you really take me for?” She stares Raina down until she picks up tonguing her again, holds tight to her hair as she continues speaking. “It is cute listening to you talk with your mouth full, though.”

“That _so_ ,” Raina mumbles, taking the body chain in her teeth and snapping it against Lorelei’s sex with a mischievous flash in her eyes.

Lorelei moans, pressing against Raina’s arms and leaning to stare her down. “I bet you’d be adorable,” she giggles. As if to make up for it, she leans back to tug the rope between Raina’s legs, twisting and pulling until Raina’s expression goes from pissed off to ecstatic and she shouts.

“ _Shit_ ,” Raina hisses.

“One for you, now one for me,” Lorelei says smugly.

 

* * *

 

This keeps up much longer than it has any right to (it’s almost more the principle of the thing for Lorelei, because usually if she _can_ get a guy to eat her out this long the quality gradually diminishes) and it’s a point of pride for Raina that even though she only wrests one more orgasm for herself she doesn’t stop until Lorelei rolls off of her and collapses, breathing heavy.

“Fuck,” she pants, idly pawing at Raina.

By now, the ropes encircling her have heightened her nerves, to the degree that the lightest touch feels like it’s accompanied with an electric shock. “Have I made up for it?” she asks softly. All of the bite is gone from her voice.

“What’s that, sweetie,” Lorelei coos, turning on her side to really watch Raina react.

“All of the penis-wielding incompetents,” Raina hums, twisting her hips in a futile effort to get closer to Lorelei (not that she particularly minds the predicament she’s in).

The description makes Lorelei laugh, like most of Raina’s descriptions often do. “You’ve done very well,” she affirms, tracing a line of rope down Raina’s chest and stomach. “Which prize do you want first?”

Raina smiles distantly. “Fingers,” she says. “Fingers, then weed, then fingers s’more.”

“Greedy,” Lorelei chides.

“You asked,” Raina retorts.

“I can’t leave you tied like this,” Lorelei points out.

“So _rearrange_ me,” Raina says, as if it’s obvious. “I don’t care. You said you were gonna ravish me. Ravish me.”

Lorelei grins devilishly, moving to undo the ropes around Raina’s legs and teasing fingernails along the skin as she does. “Thankfully, that’s no imposition,” she teases, and instead of waiting for a reaction she dips fingers into Raina, gently and then all of a sudden not so gently.

Raina lets out a shuddery breath, nodding insistently. “Take me,” she murmurs. “I’m yours to do with as you see fit.”

Maybe it’s just that Raina isn’t one of the penis-wielding incompetents she mentioned earlier, but things like that always fall different from her lips. Lorelei’s pretty well made a habit of dominating any stripe of guy who falls into the sack with her (which is most of them) but she’s never heard any of them say something like that and mean it, not just think they’re supposed to. Most of the time Raina is this wry, weirdo force of nature, one of the only people who could really give Lorelei a run for her money, but occasionally and usually without warning she falls into this odd mood, like she’s been waiting for someone or something to swear herself to for a while.

“Fuck yes you are,” Lorelei whispers, all but growling as she thrusts her fingers into Raina as hard and fast and rough as she can manage.

Raina just keeps smiling that blissed-out smile, laughing even though there’s nothing funny. She’s aroused enough that it doesn’t take too much effort to get her off, and she comes utterly screaming Lorelei’s name.

“Thank you,” she breathes once she’s done.

Lorelei giggles, leaning into kiss Raina’s swollen clit just to hear her overstimulated, tired, delighted shout. That’s their version of a “you’re welcome.” Then she sits up abruptly and goes for the baggie Raina brought outside with them.

“Let me roll,” Raina says, though she sounds more exhausted than helpful.

Lorelei shakes her head, already starting to do herself. “You just lie back and let me ruin you.”

“It’s not ruining if it’s my weed,” Raina giggles.

“Just be still and play pretend,” Lorelei chides, swatting at Raina’s thigh before she returns to rolling the joint. “Honestly, you’d think nobody had ever tried to spoil you before.”

“Not nobody,” Raina replies. “I had a… he wasn’t quite a boyfriend, but that’s the closest word. Years ago, when I lived out in San Fransokyo.”

“You know I hate wistful boy stories,” Lorelei warns, lighting the joint, holding it to Raina’s lips, and nodding permission.

Which Raina indulges, taking a long drag and really savoring it before she continues. “It’s not,” she says. “It’s just a story. He treated me like this, sort of. Not roleplay, usually, but like I was special. The first time we fucked, he laid me out and kissed every inch of my body like he was memorizing it. He was blind - still is, I guess - and he was obsessed with showing me all the ways that he especially found me beautiful, the ways someone else might not notice.”

Lorelei sniffs. “As men go, he sounds acceptable,” she says, taking another hit. “What did he expect in return?”

“Nothing,” Raina says, nodding to the joint. “Gimme.”

“Bossy,” Lorelei says, petulantly inhaling more smoke and shotgunning Raina instead.

“You asked did other people spoil me,” Raina says, sounding lazily indignant. “I answered. Are you jealous?”

“No,” Lorelei snaps. “I don’t get jealous.”

“I know that,” Raina replies. “That’s part of why this works. You don’t get jealous and I don’t either. It makes me _sad_ when you tell me about the men you sleep with sometimes, but only because they leave you sexually dissatisfied.”

Lorelei takes a drag contemplatively. It’s not like Loki had said, that they don’t _deserve_ her (but he does). It’s a sort of care and concern that Lorelei isn’t used to. “And it makes me sad that you can count the number of satisfying lovers you’ve had on one hand.”

Raina smiles drowsily. “Sentimentalist,” she teases.

“Weirdo,” Lorelei retorts. After one last puff, she puts the joint in Raina’s hand. “If I untie you, I expect you to be in charge of _that_.”

“Yes, my goddess,” Raina says with a grin.

“And I wouldn’t argue some fingernails, since I noticed you took those dangerous ones off,” Lorelei continues, pulling the knots apart and rubbing Raina’s arms to get the blood flowing.

“Yes, my goddess,” Raina repeats happily, bringing her hand down flat against Lorelei’s ass with a giggle. “As you like.”

“Perfect,” Lorelei purrs.


	10. and how her restless mind keeps her up in the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabelle and Victoria get a fun idea, and Bobbi is fully on board with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows [I am aiming to be somebody this somebody trusts with her delicate soul](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/9332181).

“Are you sure she’s going to show up?” Victoria asks softly, though she doesn’t lift her gaze from the coffee she’s stirring intently.

“Yes.” Isabelle takes a sip of hers and glances at the door lazily. “If she wasn’t coming, she would have texted me before now.”

“Situations could have arisen,” Victoria mutters.

Isabelle rolls her eyes affectionately. “She’s only a minute late. Give her time.”

“Pardon my paranoia,” Victoria retorts. They’ve discussed the reasons for that paranoia already, namely her comparative lack of experience with group activities and related dislike for feeling inexperienced, but she’s still on edge.

“You’re all right,” replies Isabelle, voice gentler than before. She reaches over to put her hand over Victoria’s. “You’re still on board with this?”

“I am,” she says. “I’m not really sure how we’re going to be able to gracefully ask her if she wants to be our unicorn for a night, but I want to try.”

Isabelle laughs. “That’s all right, I’m not either. But hey, the worst she can do is laugh and say no, and that’s not gonna happen. I know her too well.”

Victoria would be lying to say she hasn’t fleetingly worried about _how_ well is too well, but she trusts her girlfriend. “You’re awfully confident,” she teases instead.

“Why shouldn’t I be? You’re hot, I’m hot, and she’s hot. And we’re friends, so it’s not as weird as if I just picked a random woman off the street.” Isabelle shrugs.

“Hotness cubed,” Bobbi croons, sliding into the empty chair with a grin. “Always a winning formula. What is it that ranks me above randoms?”

“Well, I actually like you,” says Isabelle with a smirk. “You’re smart and funny and kickass.”

“Gosh,” Bobbi laughs. “You’re flattering me more than usual, that means you want something.”

“Hey! Can’t I just want to compliment my friend?” Isabelle’s laughing. “But you’re right, we had an ulterior motive. Victoria and I were talking and we thought maybe...aw hell, there’s no way to beat around the bush. You wanna have a threeway?”

Bobbi bursts out laughing, and in turn this makes Victoria glare at Isabelle threateningly until Bobbi calms and says, “You serious?”

“Yeah, kinda.” Isabelle squeezes Victoria’s hand. “I know it’s kind of a weird thing to ask, but I mean...like I said, we’re all very hot adults who appreciate each other, why not?”

“It’s not weird,” Bobbi chuckles. “Well, or it’s only weird because apparently you thought you’d try to sway me into finally going to bed with you by adding another hot woman into the deal.”

“Finally?” Victoria asks, sounding more suspicious than she’d like.

“Well, I offered to sleep with her once or twice,” says Isabelle nonchalantly. “She always turned me down.”

“You had _the_ worst timing,” Bobbi exclaims. “Though I’m too nice to tell embarrassing stories in front of your girlfriend.”

Isabelle snorts. “How kind of you.” Then she grins. “So, how about it?”

Bobbi pretends to take a moment to very seriously consider this even though her mind is already pretty well made up, then replies, “Did you have specifics in mind?”

“We’re both pretty switchy,” says Isabelle. “I don’t know where you fit in on that spectrum, but I’d guess more towards the domme side of things?”

“You know me so well,” Bobbi smirks. “Either that or you’ve accidentally been in my sex drawer.”

Isabelle sits up a little straighter. “Somehow I’d forgotten about that.”

“I’m missing something,” Victoria says, raising an eyebrow.

“She’s got an entire collection of sex toys in her closet,” explains Isabelle. “Like fancy-ass sex toys too, not cheap shit. Allegedly. She’s never shown it to me or anything.”

“Well then,” Victoria says. “I feel like we’d be in good hands.”

“I’d make sure of it,” Bobbi murmurs seductively.

Isabelle doesn’t bother to hide her tiny shudder at that. She grins and replies, “Yeah, this is gonna be good. So other than that, you have anything you wanna discuss? Since you’ll be the guest and all.”

“Shit, I don’t know,” Bobbi laughs. “I’m not the one who came here with a plan. Besides.” She stops, looks at Isabelle pointedly. “You know my deal.”

Isabelle nods, suddenly a bit flustered. “I do, I think, yeah. Victoria, do you, uh, have anything else to say?” She feels like a goddamn nervous teenager all of a sudden.

“Yeah,” Victoria says. “Bobbi, do you want to give us a nice image to hold onto or do you want to keep it a surprise?”

Bobbi taps her chin. “Anything I should rule out?”

“Well, if you’re going to top Victoria you should know that she’ll probably get mouthy,” says Isabelle. “She’s a little mouthy with _me,_ for fuck’s sake.”

“Aw, sounds precious,” Bobbi teases, just to see how Victoria is going to react (a decidedly derisive snort).

“And I’m not sure about you, but I’m really not up for butt stuff,” teases Isabelle.

“Don’t even get me started,” Bobbi snarks. “If that’s what someone’s into I’m happy to oblige, but really, I got my personal fill of butt stuff with you-know-who.” She makes a face. “You know, my ex, not Voldemort. Goddammit, FitzSimmons.”

Isabelle laughs. “Aw, kids rubbing off on you? That’s cute.”

“They’re stupidly infectious,” Bobbi defends. She turns her attention on Victoria to ask, “You have any hard nos?”

“I don’t mind little vibrators, but penetration beyond that doesn’t really do it for me,” Victoria shrugs. It’s getting easier to be matter-of-fact the longer this conversation goes on.

“I can work with that,” Bobbi agrees.

“But seriously, I mostly just don’t want you to fuck me in a way that’s gonna interfere with my job the next day,” says Isabelle. “Painplay’s really not my style.”

“Hey, fine by me,” Bobbi says. “I can’t really imagine even consensually beating my best friend up for funsies. Goddammit, Skye. But yeah, painplay’s hard to do casually.” It’s not her favorite thing, either, but it’s not like she’s never played that way.

“Alright,” replies Isabelle. “So, what nights are you free this week?”

 

* * *

 

There’s a knock at the door and Victoria, currently pressed between Isabelle and the back of the couch, groans. “You answer it,” she says. “I don’t want to move yet.”

“You’re so lazy when no one’s looking,” teases Isabelle. “It’s adorable.”

“Hey, you’re closer to the door than I am,” Victoria counters.

“Fair point.” Isabelle disentangles herself from Victoria reluctantly and goes to open the door.

“Good evening,” Bobbi says, overly formal because she’s not exactly sure how else to be. “I brought wine, but that’s best saved for aftercare.”

Isabelle grins. “Mmm, sounds nice. C’mon in, we were just hanging out waiting for you.”

“So, she’s got you on door duty, huh?” Bobbi teases as she enters. “Can’t blame her, with an apartment this classy it seems practically required to have a doorwoman.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize _that’s_ how you wanted to play,” says Isabelle playfully.

Victoria rolls her eyes showily, sitting up and making an effort to look presentable. “It was practical in the immediate situation,” she shrugs.

“She just likes giving me a hard time.” Isabelle winks at Bobbi. “So....now what?”

“Well, that depends,” Victoria muses. “Do you want to get right into it?”

Bobbi falters, though she tries not to show it. “That’s up to you guys,” she says. “I’ll get into character whenever you want.”

“Alright. Well, I’m ready to go if you two are,” says Isabelle, reaching to undo the tie on the robe she’s wearing.

“We should move to the bedroom first,” Victoria points out.

“Strip before you’re there,” Bobbi says. “I want to admire the view.”

Victoria has to work to hold back a laugh, because while it may be easy for Bobbi to get in character it’s going to take her a little while, but she stands and slides her own robe off. “Better?” she asks.

“It’s definitely not bad,” Bobbi muses.

Isabelle follows suit, resting her hand on her hip. “Not bad? I think I’m offended on her behalf.”

“We’ll work up to fancier compliments,” Bobbi retorts. “Once you’ve earned them.”

Isabelle moans quietly.

“Bedroom,” Bobbi orders. “Now.”

Isabelle reaches for Victoria’s hand. “Okay.” She tugs Victoria in that direction.

“So well-kept,” Bobbi declares, looking around Victoria’s bedroom. “And your headboard is so convenient. Tell me, did you do that on purpose?”

This time, Victoria does laugh. “Happy accident,” she corrects. It’s comprised of horizontal slats, very ideal for rigging.

“ _Very_ happy,” says Isabelle.

Bobbi smiles, mostly to herself. “Well, good,” she says. “Victoria, I want you on the bed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Victoria says, saluting sarcastically as she wanders over to the bed and perches on the edge.

“All the way back against that headboard of yours,” Bobbi clarifies sternly. “Arms up, legs open.”

Victoria smirks. “Whatever you say. Do you want to have your way with me first, or Isabelle?”

“Interesting question,” Bobbi muses, turning her back to the others as she rifles through the bag she brought. “I’m going to play with Isabelle first, but you might get off before she does.”

Isabelle makes a small noise.

“Isabelle, baby, hands behind your back,” Bobbi orders. When she turns back around, she’s got two matching pairs of blue leather handcuffs in her hands.

Immediately, Isabelle does as she’s told.

Bobbi hums appreciatively as she secures one pair of cuffs around Isabelle’s wrists, then strokes down Isabelle’s spine lightly. “You just wait there a second while I take care of your girlfriend,” she murmurs, moving to join Victoria on the bed.

“I see where this is going,” Victoria says as Bobbi cuffs her wrists to the headboard.

“Do you really,” Bobbi chuckles. “I should probably get undressed to your guys’ level, huh?”

“I wouldn’t object,” calls Isabelle.

“I figured,” Bobbi says. She pulls her shirt over her head and shimmies out of her jeans, revealing a black and gold lingerie set that’s significantly and appropriately more commanding than Victoria’s (pink) or Isabelle’s (blue). “I wasn’t sure how much you were going to want me to dress the part, so I compromised.”

“Damn good compromise,” Victoria murmurs.

Isabelle nods. “I’d say you made a good call.”

“Good,” Bobbi declares. She searches through her bag again and pulls out an almost cute little vibrator, the same shade as the cuffs. “This small enough for you?” she asks Victoria.

“Yeah, I could do that,” Victoria agrees. “What, are you gonna let that work me up?”

Bobbi comes to slip the toy inside Victoria, then chuckles as she holds up its remote. “That’s one way to put it,” she declares.

“We’ll see,” Victoria shrugs (or tries to shrug, which isn’t exactly easy with her arms stretched above her).

“We will,” Bobbi counters archly. She sits on the edge of the mattress, legs spread wide. “Isabelle, meanwhile I’m gonna have you come get _me_ worked up, all right?”

“Yeah,” says Isabelle, trying to remain composed (but she’s breathing heavier than usual). She walks over to the bed and kneels down so that she’s in front of Bobbi, then glances up at her to make sure that’s what Bobbi wanted.

Bobbi nods. “Perfect,” she says. “God, you look hot like that.”

“Thank you,” murmurs Isabelle. “Shall I…?”

“Please,” Bobbi encourages. She turns to raise an eyebrow at Victoria as she sets the vibrator to low, then gives Isabelle a look that’s meant as a _go on_ in no uncertain terms.

Isabelle leans forward, beginning with kisses on Bobbi’s thighs before starting to lick at her more firmly. She has a feeling Bobbi’s not going to want things soft and gentle.

“Doesn’t that feel amazing?” Victoria asks conversationally.

Bobbi sees that as a challenge and amps up the vibrations. “It does,” she agrees. “I might be into watching her try it on you later.”

“Trying isn’t really the word, considering she does it once a week minimum,” Victoria teases.

“Might be into watching her do it to you later,” Bobbi corrects wryly. “That sounds so vague, though. This is not the place for vagueness.”

“I don’t think anyone could accuse you of it,” Victoria smirks.

“Still too coherent,” Bobbi sighs, turning the vibrator up again and enjoying the way it makes Victoria’s breath catch.

Meanwhile, Isabelle is enjoying the hell out of eating Bobbi out. She adjusts her position a little so she can suck at Bobbi’s clit, curious if that’ll get a reaction out of her.

It definitely does, though she can temper her moan, her look of ecstasy; casually, she rests one of her feet on Isabelle’s thigh, moves it back and forth. “You’re damn good at this,” she murmurs. “You should definitely have bragging rights.”

Isabelle hums gratefully and pulls back for a moment to ask, “You want my tongue inside you?” It’s not exactly a sexy question but she figures checking first is polite.

“Yes, please,” Bobbi says. It’s not sexy, but it’s good to be up-front about this.

And Isabelle does as asked, making soft noises of delight. Victoria’s always going to be her favorite taste, but Bobbi is good too.

“God, yeah,” Bobbi sighs, leaning back on her elbows and notching Victoria’s vibrator surprisingly down instead of up, which makes Victoria pout.

“Hey,” she exclaims.

“You’re hands-free for a reason, dear,” Bobbi singsongs. “My decisions to make.”

Victoria huffs, but she doesn’t say anything, squirming ungracefully to try to get more out of the minute vibrations.

Isabelle’s working her tongue inside Bobbi, trying to see what will affect her the most. Since Bobbi seems to like it rough, she tries that, pulling back to nip at Bobbi’s clit for a little while.

“Shit,” Bobbi hisses, nodding frantically. “Keep going.”

Laughing a bit, as much as she’s able, Isabelle does so, switching back and forth like she’s been doing it all her life.

“Christ, baby, that’s so nice,” Bobbi mumbles. By now her upper half is completely flat against the bed, one of her hands falling on Victoria’s calf.

“Come _on_ ,” Victoria whines, wiggling impatiently.

“Is she always this cranky?” Bobbi asks Isabelle.

Isabelle snorts. “When I don’t let her come? Yeah, pretty much.”

“Poor thing,” Bobbi pouts. “Tell you what. If your girl can get me off, you get off too.”

“Fine,” Victoria sighs, pulling on the handcuffs though it achieves no real end.

Hearing this, Isabelle doubles down on her efforts. She bites down harder on Bobbi’s clit too, thinking maybe that will achieve something.

And after a minute, it does, and Bobbi lets out a low scream, thighs clamping around Isabelle’s head for a moment before relaxing. “Damn, girl,” she whispers fondly.

“So I did well?” asks Isabelle, smirking up at her.

“So well,” Bobbi agrees. “Wanna come up and kneel for me here while I let her finish?”

Isabelle nods frantically as she climbs onto the bed, assuming a kneeling position as asked.

Bobbi smiles lazily, petting down Isabelle’s side as she reaches for the remote and turns it all the way up for Victoria. Victoria, for her part, has the forethought to murmur, “Thank you,” but that’s about all that’s coherent before the vibrations get to her and she starts to come.

“So pretty,” Bobbi murmurs.

“Isn’t she?” Isabelle asks, unable to keep the smugness out of her voice.

“She is,” Bobbi agrees. “Feeling good, sweetie?”

Though it’s rather ineffectively aimed given the placement of her hands, Victoria flips Bobbi off with a smile as she sails through another orgasm. The vibrations aren’t stopping, so she’s going to lean into it.

“Don’t suppose I could have some of that, please?” asks Isabelle, trying for politeness.

“ _Maybe_ ,” Bobbi giggles, finally switching the vibrator off and rolling to remove it. She raises an eyebrow at Isabelle. “Clean this off first?” It’s phrased like a question, but given her insistent expression and the fact that she’s holding it up expectantly it’s a command.

Isabelle nods and leans forward to obediently suck it off. She can’t help but moan a little because Victoria tastes amazing, as always.

“Good girl,” Bobbi croons. “I wouldn’t have figured you for being the nicer one in the bedroom.”

“I’m full of surprises,” purrs Isabelle.

“I’m sure you are,” Bobbi replies. Gently, she slides the toy into Isabelle, then hops off the bed, grinning and explaining, “I just had another idea.”

“Either great or horrible,” Victoria quips.

Isabelle tilts her head. “I’m intrigued.”

Bobbi searches in her bag for a minute, then comes back over with the mystery object held behind her back. “Victoria, dear, be good and open up?”

That’s a fairly straightforward request and one that’s pretty easy to read, so though she rolls her eyes and says, “Guess this is what I get,” she does eventually let her jaw drop. It’s a pretty standard ball gag, but there’s an extra set of straps coming out the sides, and she can’t help but tilt her head curiously.

“Your turn, Isabelle,” Bobbi murmurs, nodding her forward.

Isabelle, eyes wide, does as she’s asked, scooting forward to take the ball in her mouth. It’s very odd being this close to Victoria and yet not really touching her.

Bobbi smiles, petting Isabelle’s hair before she fastens the strap. “God, you two look hot,” she says fondly, looking them over. “I’m starting to feel weirdly lucky.”

Despite the gag in her mouth, Isabelle does her best to hum her thanks. She closes her eyes at the feeling of Bobbi’s hand in her hair.

“Now,” Bobbi declares, “I’m just going to get you started, baby, and then I’m going to enjoy this moment.”

Victoria is being very pointedly left out of this round of orgasms, and she can feel it, but somehow she doesn’t really care. She raises an eyebrow encouragingly at Isabelle, arches forward to allow Isabelle as much mobility as possible.

Isabelle notices what Victoria’s doing, and makes an appreciative noise before she starts focusing on the vibrations. Moving is sort of hard in this position, but she does her best to kind of rut forward as much as she can. Between Victoria in front of her and Bobbi off to the side, she’s not quite sure where to look and it’s all a bit overwhelming in the best way.

Bobbi smiles, stretching out and beginning to finger herself as she watches. “I’m not gonna understand a damn thing you say, but I wanna hear it anyway,” she coaxes.

Victoria, of course, snorts out a laugh and rolls her eyes, attempting a casual “fuck you” because she feels like she can get away with it gagged.

“Already on top of that, baby,” Bobbi purrs, ramping up the vibrations for Isabelle.

Whining as best she can, Isabelle pants out some nonsense that’s meant to be Bobbi’s name or maybe Victoria’s name, she’s not even sure anymore. Even without the gag, she’d be pretty close to incoherent at this point.

Bobbi hums happily, rolling her hips against her hand. “You’re making the prettiest little nonsense noises like that,” she declares.

Isabelle tries to purr her thanks, which of course comes out as more gibberish. Bobbi’s style of domming is different from Victoria’s and, while she’d never want to pick between the two, she’s very much enjoying this. She can feel her orgasm coming and she just needs a little more.

“Getting frustrated?” Bobbi grins, and she might be asking either of them the question.

Victoria groans, trying to nod a yes without disturbing Isabelle too much; Isabelle echoes her, attempting a pitiful whine.

“Poor babies,” Bobbi coos. “Anything I can do?”

Isabelle tries to say “Please let me come” but of course it’s near-unintelligible. Her breathing is ragged and she’s _so_ close.

Bobbi grins again, even more deviously, and turns the vibrator up as high as it can go before focusing her attention seemingly exclusively on herself.

That makes Isabelle squeal and fall over the edge almost immediately, shuddering as best she can and letting out a series of wails.

“Pretty girl,” Bobbi declares, taking another couple of minutes to finish herself off before she turns on her side and asks, “Want me to let you down?”

Victoria whimpers, sounding completely acquiescent.

Isabelle, who’s still coming down from it all (and since the vibrator’s still going that’s not exactly easy), tries to make a sound of agreement.

Bobbi chuckles, then reaches for the vibrator and lightning-fast sucks it off herself so it’s acceptable for setting down on the bed. “You two,” she murmurs. “You two are so fucking hot like this, but I’m not a total asshole.” She unbuckles the strap around Isabelle’s head first and nods for her to move back before tending to Victoria.

“Dammit,” Victoria says, working her jaw. “You’re a little bit of an asshole, but in a nice way.”

“I’m going to take the compliment and ignore the rest,” Bobbi says airily, reaching to unclip Victoria’s arms from the headboard without removing the cuffs.

“Jesus christ,” says Isabelle. “That was...oh my god.”

“Also taking that as a compliment,” Bobbi laughs. “You two, wait here, I’ll be right back.” And she practically bounces off the bed and out the door.

Isabelle turns to Victoria. “How are you doing?”

“At this exact moment, a little _frustrated_ ,” Victoria replies, smiling almost slyly. “But overall enjoying myself. She’s a little bit ridiculous in the best way.”

Isabelle laughs. “She is, yeah. But hot, though, right?”

“Uncommonly so,” Victoria agrees. “And it’s sort of fun, being on the same level as you at the same time.”

“Yes.” Isabelle’s voice goes a bit softer. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Victoria murmurs, leaning forward and hoping Isabelle gets the point.

She does, and she leans the rest of the way to kiss Victoria, closing her eyes and humming happily.

When Bobbi comes back in the room, holding the bottle of wine and two glasses, she can’t help but coo. “Shit, you guys are so cute I’m not even going to punish you for that,” she says cheerfully. She sets the bottle and glasses on the dresser, then begins pouring with a smile.

Isabelle raises an eyebrow. “What are those for?”

“Well, this one’s for me,” Bobbi says, taking a sip from one glass with a smug flourish. “This one I’m thinking you two can share.” She crosses to the bed.

“How, exactly?” Victoria asks, chuckling.

“Easily,” Bobbi retorts, holding that glass to Victoria’s lips and nodding for her to drink.

She does, after a moment, sipping very carefully as Bobbi steadies the glass, and she doesn’t try to pull away until Bobbi decides to do. She’s in a good enough mood that she even offers a polite “thank you” without being asked.

Then Bobbi repeats the action with Isabelle, who drinks as instructed, her eyes darting back and forth between the wine and Bobbi. “Thank you,” she echoes, once Bobbi’s released her.

“You’re so welcome, sweetheart,” Bobbi says gently. “Since you two have obviously moved into the schmoopy part of the evening, goddammit Skye, I have an idea.”

“Do you,” Victoria hums.

“I sure do,” Bobbi laughs. “You, baby, I want on your back.” She helps Victoria get arranged appropriately, diagonally across the bed with her still-cuffed arms stretched out over her head. “And _you_ , I think it’s time you guys actually got to be close tonight. Climb on.”

Her breath hitching in her throat, Isabelle does, settling in atop Victoria and sighing happily. She’s been having a wonderful time, but she has missed being close to Victoria like this.

“Perfect,” Bobbi says, nudging Victoria’s legs apart and moving to sit between them. “Just to set the record straight, Victoria, how much is too much?” She teases two fingers into Victoria’s center slowly.

Victoria hums in concentration, feeling Bobbi explore and nodding when she’s about two knuckles deep. “There’s good,” she mumbles, though it’s softened by the weight of Isabelle above her.

“There it is, then,” Bobbi says. “Why don’t you start showing your girlfriend how much you love her? And Isabelle, sweetie, you start telling me how to show your girlfriend the same.” she smirks. “I’m glad to lend a hand. Goddammit, Skye.”

“What is with this whole ‘goddammit so-and-so’ business?” asks Isabelle.

“The babies,” Bobbi shrugs. “They have a way of rubbing off on me, apparently.”

Victoria snorts, digging one of her heels into the mattress in a way that causes her hips to cant inquisitively.

“I get your point,” Bobbi sighs. “Isabelle. Now.”

“Mmm, how about you just feel around for a while?” Isabelle says lazily.

“Glad to,” Bobbi murmurs, carefully teasing her fingers inside Victoria and listening for reactions. There aren’t many of those at first, given the way Victoria is concentrating on Isabelle, but her hips do continue to move and her heels press against the bed more and more noticeably.

Isabelle’s breathing is getting more ragged, and after a minute or so she gasps, “You could - oh! play with her a little.”

“You mean like this?” Bobbi asks playfully, sliding her fingers up to Victoria’s clit.

“Yeah,” says Isabelle, “yeah, that.” She whimpers.

“Mm, okay.” Bobbi grins and pulls Isabelle close for a kiss as she continues to rub Victoria murmuring, “It’s sorta fun when I can’t tell where one of you ends and the other begins.”

Laughing shakily, Isabelle replies, “This is pretty nice for me too…” Her sentence ends in a moan.

Victoria hums her assent, licking up Isabelle’s slit slowly and really savoring her taste. Really, this isn’t unusual but it’s very, very welcome.

Isabelle squirms a bit and whines in delight. “Y-you can speed it up if you want, Bobbi,” she murmurs.

“I think we all want that,” Bobbi murmurs teasingly, kissing Isabelle’s neck and slipping fingers in Victoria while circling her clit with her thumb. “Mutually beneficial, no?”

“Yes.” Isabelle tips her neck back to give Bobbi better access while she grinds down on Victoria. “Yes, yes, yes, please…”

That has the desired effect, in that it makes both Victoria and Bobbi concentrate their efforts even more, Victoria tonguing more determinedly and Bobbi fingering more roughly. Victoria mumbles what’s probably affirmation, too.

Isabelle shrieks, moans, and yelps out both Victoria and Bobbi’s names as she comes. It takes her a little while to float back from that, and she’s only dimly aware of Victoria wailing low and all but shaking underneath her.

“Goddamn,” Bobbi murmurs, leaning back to watch the pair of them unwind fully. “I should get you two untangled, huh?”

“‘f you want,” purrs Isabelle, sated and happy.

Bobbi smiles softly. “You’re too cute,” she murmurs, easing Isabelle off of Victoria’s face and into a flat-on-her-stomach position.

“I could go for more of that wine,” Victoria suggests.

“Let me get you loose so I don’t have to pour it down your throats all night,” Bobbi teases, scrambling to grab the key. Isabelle’s wrists are closer, so she unlocks them first before coming around to Victoria’s and freeing them.

Immediately Victora rubs her wrists to pseudo-get her circulation flowing, smirking, but she doesn’t sit up until Bobbi pulls her up. “Please tell me you don’t get sappy about aftercare,” she smirks.

“I get just as attentive as is appropriate about aftercare,” Bobbi corrects, helping Isabelle sit up.

Isabelle’s grateful for the help, being still a bit floppy. “I’m not about to complain,” she says, her words just slightly slurred.

Bobbi grins, moves to pour more wine. “You two all right with still sharing a glass?”

Shrugging, Isabelle nods.

“Perfect,” Bobbi laughs. “Who gets it first?”

“I call dibs,” Victoria drawls, lazily beckoning.

“I think I already did that for you,” replies Isabelle, grinning.

“You two,” Bobbi chuckles. “For those who do this love stuff, you’re pretty ideal.” She hands Victoria the glass and sips out of her own.

“Is that her way of saying we’re sappy as fuck?” Victoria asks.

Isabelle snorts. “Basically.”

“Well, then,” Victoria shrugs, “you’ve found out our secret. Don’t go spreading it around.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”


	11. it's the field of dreams runnin' in the bloodstreams, but I only dream of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Halloween party, Maya realizes she's put it off long enough, she has something to tell Maria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Immediately follows [the one where we were laughing and drunk on just being there](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/4419195).

“I’m just saying, the first time I heard that I thought it was about a ghost,” Maya shrugs. “And I’ve gotta say, that made it more interesting.”

Maria laughs. “I like that interpretation.”

“I mean, it’s not _bad_ ,” Maya continues, and she knows she’s in alcohol-induced nervous rambling mode but it seems like the safest thing right now. “She’s very good at what she does. It’s just… ghosts would be way cooler. And seasonally appropriate.”

“Good point. I enjoy the way your brain works, Hansen,” says Maria with a smile.

Immediately Maya ducks her head, because even if it can’t be seen very well in the dim light of the sidewalk she knows she’s blushing furiously. “Thanks,” she mumbles.

Maria’s quiet as they walk the last half-block to her building. Then before she goes up the stairs, she turns and waves somewhat awkwardly. “Night,” she says. “Thanks for...y’know. It means a lot to me.”

“Yeah,” Maya says. “I mean, you’re welcome. I’ll… I’ll see you Monday.”

“Yeah. Have a good weekend, Maya.” Maria heads for the door.

Maya turns to go, but the farther away from Maria’s apartment she gets the more positive she is that she fucked up. And this time it’s that she fucked up by _not_ saying something, which is not always the case. She doesn’t want to come off like some sexual ambulance chaser, but it’s not like not doing anything about it is working out in her favor.

She crosses the street and she’s almost halfway to her place when something possesses her to turn back around. Maybe it’s the rain that’s just started falling, or at least maybe she can rationalize it that way - Maria’s was closer, walking home in the rain without an umbrella is the dumbest idea - but maybe it’s something else. Probably.

By the time she knocks on Maria’s door, she’s dripping wet and just thanking whoever she can thank that her blazer is thick enough that she’s not coming to the door all perky-nippled. Small mercies. Or something.

After a moment (probably looking through the peephole), Maria opens the door. “Maya? You’re...wet.”

“...it’s raining,” Maya says faintly, kicking herself for how helpless it sounds.

“How far did you get before you gave up and came back here?” Maria teases. “Come in, you need to get out of those wet clothes.”

Maya is too shook up to do anything for a minute but nod and step inside. “Thanks,” she finally manages. “I… dunno. I got a little bit of the way. I was kind of mindlessly following a route.”

“Well, that was stupid,” Maria says, not unkindly. “Look, I’ll get you some spare clothing if you wanna try to wait out the rain, or at least wait until your clothes dry. And something hot to drink.”

“Thanks,” Maya says again. “I’ll, uh. I’ll be glad to take you up on that.”

Maria goes into her bedroom and comes out with a pair of sweatpants and an oversize T-shirt. “If you wanna go in the bathroom to change, go ahead, but I don’t care if you just do it here. Cocoa okay? I might have a tea bag around somewhere, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

Maya laughs nervously as she takes her clothes off, not wanting to seem weird even though laughing nervously probably doesn’t help that. “I bet everyone would be shocked to know badass Maria Hill keeps cocoa in her kitchen.”

Maria rolls her eyes. “Not everyone _gets_ to know, smartass.”

“Your… your secret is safe with me, then,” Maya mumbles, yanking the shirt over her head.

After a few minutes, Maria returns with a steaming mug with a bright blue cartoon Pegasus on it. “Hope you don’t mind ponies,” she snarks, handing it to Maya as she sits down next to her. “Aly gave it to me for Christmas and it’s the only one that’s clean.”

“It’s cute,” Maya says halfheartedly. She has no frame of reference for it, but the fact that Maria handed her a mug with a cartoon anything is cute, at least.

Maria chuckles. “But seriously, did you just come here because your clothes were wet or did you actually need something? Not that I’m not happy to have you.”

“You say that like wet clothes aren’t something that needs to be remedied,” Maya says evasively.

“You’re dodging the question. What, did you murder someone or something?”

“I wouldn’t murder someone while I was walking home,” Maya replies archly. “Also, I wouldn’t immediately come over to hang out with an ex-cop after murdering someone.”

“Still dodging, Hansen. Don’t make me cross-examine you,” jokes Maria.

“What are you gonna do, haul me in in handcuffs and slam folders on the desk before you sit on it with your legs crossed and.” Well, this started as a joke and is getting a little uncomfortable to continue to think about. “Isn’t cross-examining for lawyers, not police?”

“Your imagination is bizarrely vivid.” Maria blinks. “And sexually charged.”

Maya just shrugs and stares into her cocoa. No more words for the moment.

“C’mon, Maya. What’s really going on?” Now Maria sounds a little gentler. “You can tell me. I won’t make a thing out of it, whatever it is.”

“Fuck it,” Maya mumbles. “Fine. Okay. I like you. There.”

Maria just stares at her for a moment.

“Shit,” Maya whispers. “Uh. I’ll just. Go.”

“Don’t you dare,” replies Maria softly.

So Maya doesn’t. She forces herself to take a long drink of cocoa (at least half the mug in one swallow, which is not a particularly bright idea given that it’s still fairly hot, but she’ll live) and just like that it all comes tumbling out. “I know you don’t feel the same way, you’re still getting over Melinda,” she says. “That’s cool. It’s fine. I’m fine. I just - I couldn’t keep sitting on it, I guess.”

“Y’know,” says Maria. “For someone who’s so smart, you’re kinda stupid sometimes.” She leans toward Maya.

The next thing Maya says isn’t really _said_ because it’s honestly just a high-pitched vowel noise.

“And,” Maria continues, “to be fair, I’m a little stupid too.” By now she’s just a few inches away from Maya’s face.

Maya gulps.

“Is this okay? I don’t want to…”

“Yes,” Maya says. “Yeah, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re… yeah.”

So Maria leans in and kisses her.

“ _Holy shit_ ,” Maya whispers before she can stop herself, closing her eyes and moving closer.

They kiss for a little while, hesitantly at first and then less so, before Maria pulls back to murmur, “Well, this night turned out differently than I thought it would.”

Maya blinks a few times. “Hell,” she says, “I’m not gonna argue with it.”

Maria laughs. “Me neither. Listen, you want me to dry your hair or something? I’m sure not gonna let you leave _now_.”

“Oh, you’re _not_ ,” Maya hums, smirking.

“Nope,” Maria replies with a grin. “You okay with staying here tonight?”

“One, it’s not an unheard-of thing to do, generally, staying the night at someone’s place that you’ve just kissed in,” Maya shrugs. “Two, it’s not like I’ve never stayed over before. Three, I’m not going to argue based on context.”

“God, Hansen, you’re a nerd,” Maria chuckles. “But an awfully cute one. C’mon, into the bathroom.”

They don’t talk much while the hair dryer is running, or while Maria changes into her pajamas, but once they’re settled into Maria’s ridiculously large bed, Maria asks, “So I pretty much came to a conclusion about you while drowning in my sorrows earlier, but how long have you been sitting on this exactly?”

“Y’know, I couldn’t pinpoint it exactly?” Maya shrugs, leaning back against the headboard. “I think maybe a part of me has known for a while, and then another part of me didn’t get to the party till… it’s like, you’re gorgeous, you’re incredible, you’re really fucking cool, but I didn’t want to fuck anything up by making myself known?”

“And you decided now was the time because…?”

“Because I guess I didn’t like the idea of you feeling like you weren’t… I’m not sure, like you lost something,” Maya says. “Also, it was just starting to be more trouble than it was worth to keep it to myself. Emotional burden shit.”

“God, you’re sweet,” says Maria, and she sounds genuinely shocked about this. “I’m not really used to that, I don’t get sweetness often. Not usually the kind of girl I go for.” She reaches out to stroke Maya’s hair.

“Go, me,” Maya quips, but she leans into Maria’s hand all the same.

“Yeah. Not really sure why you’d be interested to begin with, honestly, I’m just an ex-cop with a busted leg, nothing special.” Maria kind of shrugs and smiles.

“Shut up,” Maya rolls her eyes. “You’re awesome. It’s just really easy to be around you. We can hang out doing fuck knows what and it’s still fun. No pressure. Also, like I kind of said, have you seen your face? It’s a really nice face.”

Maria snorts. “I have seen it once or twice, yes. I’m flattered you think so. Yours is pretty great too.” She runs her finger over Maya’s lips. “You have nice eyes.”

“Thanks,” Maya whispers. “I mean, that’s… all things considered, it’s a good thing you like them. They’re aimed your direction a lot.”

“Jesus, Hansen,” says Maria, but she’s laughing. “You don’t do much flirting, do you?”

“Not really,” Maya admits. “I mean, you’ve seen the crowd I run with outside the mall. Run with being a loose term. Loose as in loosely applied, not loose as in sexually promiscuous. Kind of the opposite thereof.”

“You’re still pretty drunk,” Maria murmurs, kissing her again. “It’s cute.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not a weepy drunk,” Maya replies blithely, clearly basking in the affection.

“If you were, I’d deal.” Maria shrugs. Then she slips her arm around Maya, kind of casually. “This okay?”

“Yeah,” Maya nods. “I’m not exactly into the casual touching thing, but please feel free to touch me wherever you want, I’m into that.” She makes a face. “Even I could tell that was bad.”

“It really was,” snickers Maria. “You’re lucky I find that cute.”

“I really am,” Maya agrees. “So, just out of curiosity. What exactly did you come up with earlier? Regarding me?”

Maria pauses a moment. “I dunno, I just...I was thinking about Melinda, and her and I, and wondering why I was disappointed but not as devastated as I should’ve been, and I realized, I guess, that a lot of the time I might’ve spent pining after her, I’ve been with you.”

Maya falls silent for a bit, considering this. “Well, I’m glad,” she declares. “Not because I was trying to get in the way. But that maybe I’m… maybe I’m a good alternative.”

“No maybes about it,” says Maria softly. “Melinda’s great, but you’re...you’re better.”

“Shit,” Maya whispers. “Not that I was fishing for it, but - that’s the nicest thing you could’ve said, I feel like.”

“I mean it,” says Maria, going in for another kiss.


	12. watching it all over my shoulders until the masquerade's over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Halloween party, Skye, Jemma, and Bobbi have drunken makeouts and cuddles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows [the one where we were laughing and drunk on just being there](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/11801189).
> 
> Don't worry, the smut is still coming. We know what we're doing, and we have a plan. [Battlestar Galactica theme music]
> 
> This story also alludes to an asexual person initiating sexual contact with his partner, which was entirely his idea. This incident is not meant to be a commentary on the necessity (or lack) of sex in ace-allo relationships.

“You know what we need?” Bobbi croons as they pile into the apartment. “ _More booze_.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Skye yelps excitedly, drawing out the final vowel. “Best idea ever!”

Jemma giggles. “I am so glad we left our Jaeger suits in your car, Bobbi,” she says. “We’d surely ruin them in this current state of _debauchery_!” But she’s clearly not meaning that as a complaint, considering she goes to the fridge for some Mountain Dew and the cabinet for a bottle of cake-flavored vodka.

“Ooh, what do you call that?” Bobbi asks, eyeing the ingredients.

“I call it so sweet you don’t notice it’s alcohol,” Jemma shrugs. “It would need more than one alcoholic ingredient to get a proper name, and I’m too lazy to make anything with more than one alcoholic ingredient right now.”

“Fair enough,” Bobbi smirks. “Cups?”

“Who needs ‘em?” scoffs Skye. “Can’t we just pour that shit straight into our mouths?”

“And wind up getting it all over the carpet?” Jemma exclaims, sounding horrified. “Fitz would kill me. Certainly not!”

“Oh, heaven forbid Fitz get fussy,” Bobbi rolls her eyes.

“You don’t have to live with it,” Jemma points out. “Also, it’s rarely entirely unwarranted. Just, a lot of it is better avoided for the sake of both human decency and not having to hear it. Not like I don’t fuss about things, too.”

“But your fussing is cuter,” Bobbi declares.

“It really is,” purrs Skye, pulling Jemma over for a kiss.

“ _Oh_ ,” Jemma moans, grinning, but it’s not really possible to get caught up in kissing when her hands are still full of beverage. She hands Skye the bottles and then grabs three glasses from the cabinet.

Skye flops down on the couch and then calls, “When you get back, I want you here.” She pats her lap.

“Oh, yes, _ma’am_ ,” Jemma purrs, and she hurries to flounce over and land right in Skye’s lap. This also, to her extreme amusement, winds up causing her legs to sprawl over Bobbi’s lap, given that Bobbi has sat down on the couch beside Skye and that Jemma sits sideways.

“Why, hello there,” Bobbi says, laughing low.

“Hello!” Jemma chirps. “I’ve brought the cups for alcohol. Everyone take one, please.”

“All two of us,” Bobbi says.

“You’re adorable,” murmurs Skye as she takes one of the cups.

“I’m _festive_ ,” Jemma counters. “And I’m hosting. There are responsibilities!” Rather clumsily, she pours herself a drink (about ⅓ vodka, ⅔ soda).

Skye snorts. “Well, at least you don’t host like this when Fitz is home.”

“Different sorts of events,” Jemma replies airily.

This, naturally, makes Bobbi smirk. “I should _hope_ ,” she says. “But, hey, it’s not like he’s not hosting his own sort of event with Trip tonight.”

“ _Stoooop_ ,” Jemma whines. “I don’t care what they are or aren’t doing. I don’t want to _think_ about it. That’s horrifying.”

“Why are we even talking about boys right now?” Skye adds. “I have two hot girls next to me and on me and also booze and we shouldn’t even be _thinking_ about any dudes right now.”

“Because I think it’s cute that Jemma loves to torment Fitz with your guys’ sexy stuff -”

“I do not!”

“You think it’s funny,” Bobbi counters. “You think it’s hilarious but you don’t want to even conceptualize his.”

“ _We don’t know he’s having sexy stuff_ ,” Jemma shouts, pouting. “I agree with Skye. Hot girls. Booze. Let’s booze.”

“Booze is not a verb,” Bobbi chuckles, “but if you insist.”

Skye downs a third of her drink. “I’m good with that.”

“You’re so comfy,” Jemma sighs happily, wiggling on Skye’s lap.

“You’re so cute,” murmurs Skye, running her hands down Jemma’s sides.

“Thank you,” Jemma purrs, and apropos of nothing she leans in to kiss Skye’s face.

Which Skye is delighted to reciprocate, for a few moments at least. But when she feels Jemma’s tongue run over her lips, Skye pulls back and murmurs, “Not that I’m not super into this, but we have company, honey.”

Jemma pouts again. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Skye reaches to pet Jemma’s hair. “I mean...we _could_ just include her too.”

“Could we?” Jemma squeaks, hiding her face against Skye’s shoulder.

Skye giggles. “I dunno, you’ll have to ask her yourself.”

“You’re mean,” Jemma whines, because she’s drunk enough that all of this usually-embarrassing business is _especially_ embarrassing.

Bobbi raises an eyebrow at Skye, and Skye nods, grinning. “Hey, baby,” Bobbi murmurs, reaching to turn Jemma’s face her direction. “You want a kiss?”

Blushing furiously, Jemma nods.

So Bobbi takes Jemma around the waist and scoots her into the space between laps, then holds her there very gently while she goes in for said kiss. It’s making out, but it’s a very cautious making out at first. “You like?”

“I like,” Jemma breathes, eyes closing as she leans in and throws her arms around Bobbi’s neck, returning and deepening the kiss.

This goes on for a while, and Skye’s enjoying watching it (how could she not?), but then she starts to feel a little left out. “Can I cut in?” she asks playfully.

“It’s only fair,” Jemma giggles, scooting out of the way to allow this.

“C’mere,” Bobbi murmurs, beckoning Skye closer.

Skye moans a little and leans toward Bobbi until they’re kissing. Turns out she was right - Bobbi is a _damn_ good kisser.

“Well, if this isn’t a wonderful not-quite-surprise,” Bobbi whispers, smirking as she moves her lips down over Skye’s jaw.

“ _God,_ ” breathes Skye, “you’re so hot it’s...stupid.”

Bobbi giggles, fisting her hand in Skye’s hair. “Glad to oblige, I guess?”

“I mean it...you’re...goddamn…” Skye’s not exactly coherent, but who could be at this point?

“You too, y’know,” Bobbi murmurs. “Both of you.”

“ _Goodness,_ ” Jemma says, wiggling. She was content just to sit here staring at them, but to be pulled into the compliments? She can’t help but react.

Of course, she’s perched on a very small piece of couch at this point, and she’s not exactly coordinated, so her wiggling has the effect of making her fall onto the floor, and her falling has the effect of making her burst out laughing hysterically.

Skye’s startled enough that she pulls back to ask, “Oh my god, Jem, are you okay?”

“Yes,” Jemma giggles. “That was maybe a foot to fall, and carpet is very soft, and I just literally fell on my ass because you’re so hot.”

“Well,” Bobbi says, shrugging, “more room down there anyway.” And she practically dives onto the floor, pinning Jemma as she kisses her (and definitely not ignoring the moan it causes).

That makes Skye start giggling too, although she’s also _really_ enjoying the sight of Jemma pinned underneath Bobbi. It’s incredibly, painfully sexy. Once she manages to get control of herself, she calls, “Mind if I join you?”

“Please,” Bobbi laughs, nodding for Skye to come down too. “More the merrier. Is, I’m fairly sure, the point of this whole exercise.”

Skye sort of rolls off the couch in the least sexy way possible, but whatever, and moves so that she’s sitting near Jemma’s head. “You want your head in my lap?” she asks Jemma.

“ _Yes_ ,” Jemma pants. “I wanna be touching you both all over.”

“And her head in your lap is going to be your best bet for touching right now,” Bobbi adds playfully. “Because I’m not letting her go for a little while.”

Jemma whines loudly.

“Oh, you’re not, huh?” Skye asks with a grin as she situates Jemma accordingly.

“Nope,” Bobbi declares. “This is too much fun.” And she drops her head so as to kiss Jemma’s collarbone, seeing how hard she can nip.

“ _God_ ,” Jemma shrieks, arching up against Bobbi’s mouth. “That’s - _god_.”

“Is that a good thing?” Bobbi asks Skye, gazing up at her smugly.

Skye snickers. “She’s pretty incoherent, so yeah, I’d say so.”

“Awesome,” Bobbi rumbles, moving her kisses toward Jemma’s shoulders and throat.

“You like this, honey?” Skye asks Jemma, petting Jemma’s hair as she talks.

“Yeah,” Jemma says, full-body shuddering. “Yeah, this feels so good.” She stops to take a breath. “So - damn -”

Skye reaches down to hold her shoulders in place. “Hey, don’t go wandering off now,” she teases. “Stay still.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jemma whispers, and she tries to to her best ability.

Bobbi raises an eyebrow, because all of this is incredibly interesting but especially that, and she rolls her hips against Jemma’s. “Yeah, you’re a good girl, huh?” she asks softly.

“She is,” says Skye proudly. “Such a good girl.”

Jemma squeaks. “May I kiss?” she asks. “Either’f you. Just wanna.”

Bobbi smiles, and a second later she’s up filling that request. “You’re sweet,” she whispers. “God, this is gonna get me so much shit from Nat.”

“Whaddaya mean?” Skye asks.

“Cradlerobbing, etcetera,” Bobbi shrugs. “I don’t give a shit. You two aren’t much younger than _her_ girltoy.”

“And hey, we’re not objecting,” says Skye with a shrug. “We’re all big girls. And you’re really hot.”

“You’re not, we are, thank you, I am,” Bobbi smirks. “She’s just a big dork who likes to tease everyone about everything. But, I mean.” She presses a kiss to Jemma’s cheek. “Making out with friends is one of my favorite things to do.”

Jemma, to nobody’s surprise, is making completely nonsensical noises of delight.

“You’re so cute,” murmurs Skye, running a finger down Jemma’s face.

“ _Thank_ you,” Jemma breathes out. “Can I kiss you more, too?”

“Sure, if boss lady agrees,” Skye agrees, smirking at Bobbi.

That makes Bobbi grin. “Come join us properly,” she says to Skye.

“Okay, how do you want me?”

“Up to you,” Bobbi shrugs. “Just make sure you can fill your girl’s request.”

Jemma whimpers.

Skye stretches out on her side next to Jemma and pulls her forward for a kiss. “Good?”

“ _So_ good,” Jemma mumbles, nuzzling against Skye almost insistently.

“You always this lovey?” Bobbi asks affectionately.

“Pretty much,” says Skye with a chuckle, peppering kisses on Jemma’s neck.

“No point hiding it,” Jemma shrugs, wiggling as if to urge Bobbi up.

“It’s cute,” Bobbi assures, sliding up to kiss the other side of Jemma’s neck. “You’re really cute when you’re all sprawly like this.”

“Sprawly,” Jemma repeats, giggling.

“Yep,” says Skye lightly, “sprawly. Deal with it.” She kisses Jemma again, then Bobbi.

Blearily, Jemma wrests her arms out from under Bobbi so she can fondle one of each of their breasts. “What is this Rainbow Brite dress _made_ out of?” she asks Bobbi, sounding affronted.

“Polyester, mostly,” Bobbi shrugs. “I dunno. I’m wearing really silky lingerie, it’s not touching me enough to be annoying.”

“Take the dress off,” Jemma says eagerly. “Lingerie sounds much nicer anyway.”

“Hey now, be polite,” Skye scolds, but she’s grinning.

“Please take the dress off?” Jemma corrects, looking contrite.

Bobbi laughs and gives Jemma a quick kiss before she stands. “Very sweet, thank you,” she says, unzipping the dress and pulling it over her head to reveal that she’s in a matching blue slip. Combined with her knee socks, she still looks in-character.

“Y’know,” says Skye, “if we’re moving towards the taking-off-clothes part of the evening, I’d kinda like to move to the bed? It’s more comfy than the floor.”

Jemma squeaks. “The bed is for Bobbi, she’s the guest,” she exclaims.

“And where are you two gonna sleep, then? In Fitz’s room?”

“Heavens, no, he’d throw a fit if we so much as sat on his bed, let alone slept in it.”

“Well.” Bobbi grins and picks her costume up off the floor. “Good thing I bet the bed is big enough for three.”

“I hope so,” Jemma whimpers, sitting herself up.

Skye shrugs. “Should be okay.” She gets to her feet and tries to tug Jemma up, which proves to be harder than it might seem. “C’mon,” she coaxes, “up.”

“I’m trying,” Jemma mumbles, but her body doesn’t seem to want to cooperate.

“Up you go,” Bobbi exclaims, bending down to lift Jemma in her arms, which in turn causes Jemma to squeal. Loudly.

“Careful, you’ll summon the cat,” jokes Skye.

This only serves to make Jemma burst out laughing, which she tries to stifle against Bobbi’s chest to no avail. “Cat,” she repeats.

“There’s a cat?” Bobbi asks.

“You are so drunk,” Skye murmurs to Jemma, reaching out to pet her hair. “Yeah, she has the world’s most antisocial cat. She only came out once while I was here, when I had Jem tied up on the bed.”

“Griffith’s not antisocial!” Jemma says indignantly, ignoring the fact that Skye just shared information they’ve gone out of the way to hide in most contexts. “She’s just… selective.”

“Even more selective than her people?” Bobbi teases.

Jemma huffs. “Also, I’m not drunk.”

“You are, we’ve established this,” Bobbi says. “But we all are, so it’s okay.”

Skye pulls open the door to Jemma’s room and then immediately drops her pants and shucks off her tank top. Jemma squirms until Bobbi lets her down, then she imitates, kicking her clothes into a pile on the floor.

“Alright! Naked cuddling, let’s do this!” Skye jumps onto the bed and flops.

Jemma giggles, pulling her sports bra off. “ _Very_ naked cuddling,” she amends, curling into Skye’s side.

“You gonna join the topless party?” Skye calls to Bobbi.

Bobbi laughs. “How could I ever resist such an invitation,” she croons, and she removes her slip and her bra in one go. Still not the knee socks, though. “Topless in bed with, how would a smutty magazine describe it? Nubile co-eds?”

Skye laughs so hard at that she snorts. “Oh yeah, nubile, that’s me.”

Jemma giggles drowsily. “All the training before we got to take the Jaeger out, ‘course you are.”

“Aw,” Bobbi murmurs, coming to stroke Jemma’s hair. “Cutie.”

“Isn’t she?” Skye replies, rolling onto her side to nuzzle Jemma’s chest.

“This is warm,” Jemma declares. “It isn’t the coldest Halloween night by a long shot, but I’m much cozier inside with you two.”

“You’re sweet.” Skye kisses her on the lips again.

“You are, too,” Jemma says. “I’m sorry we’re so disgusting, Bobbi.”

“At least you know it,” Bobbi shrugs. “Half the battle right there.”

“Suppose so,” Jemma laughs. “Would it be too… something to ask for more touching?”

“We’re both touching you right now,” Bobbi teases, because she wants more specification.

“Oh, she means she wants a massage,” Skye says.

“I can do massages,” Bobbi muses. “That okay with you?”

“Uh-huh, yes,” Jemma murmurs.

Skye nods. “‘Course.”

“Perfect,” Bobbi smiles, and she makes to turn Jemma over onto her tummy. “Please get just as comfortable as you’d like.”

“Thank you, I will,” Jemma hums, wiggling against the mattress and reaching for Skye’s hand.

And Skye takes hers, and with her other hand she strokes down Jemma’s side lazily.

“Good grief,” Jemma about purrs, collapsing even more.

“I’m sure this is so good you’ll pay me back tomorrow?” Bobbi whispers playfully as she digs her thumbs into Jemma’s shoulders.

“Not sure you’ll be getting an answer to that,” Skye says, noticing that Jemma’s eyes have closed and her breathing’s gone steady. “I think she’s out.”

“Fucking precious,” Bobbi exclaims softly. “Seriously. I think that’s the cutest thing I’ve seen all month. Little tuckered-out baby queer.”

Skye giggles. “I’ve never seen her fall asleep that quick. You must have magic hands or something.”

“That bodes well for both of you,” Bobbi comments.

Before Skye can stop herself, she moans a little. “Guess so.”

Bobbi leans over to kiss Skye’s cheek. “We should follow her advice,” she says. “It’s been a long night.”

“Okay,” mumbles Skye, nestling in next to Jemma.

 

* * *

 

When Skye wakes up the next morning, she’s a little disoriented. First off, she’s _definitely_ not in her own bed - this bed is too soft. And there’s someone... _two_ someones in bed with her. She blinks as her eyes focus.

Next to her, Jemma’s still breathing deeply, and on her other side, Bobbi’s got an arm casually thrown over Jemma and is snoring.

“What time’s it?” Jemma mumbles, her head rolling in Skye’s general direction.

“Dunno,” Skye grunts, feeling around for her phone and turning it on. “Like, ten minutes to noon?”

“Shit,” Jemma giggles. “That’s so late.”

“I mean, we were up till ass o’clock last night,” Skye points out. “Probably needed the sleep.”

“When _did_ we fall asleep?” Jemma asks.

“Oh, you fell asleep a good half hour before we did,” Bobbi chuckles, rolling over and pressing a lazy kiss to Jemma’s bare shoulder. “But it was probably close to three when we even got back here, after which time sort of melted. Or maybe that was you, too.”

“I didn’t do anything stupid, did I?” Jemma exclaims, sounding horrified.

Skye chuckles and pets Jemma’s hair. “No, you were adorable. Bobbi just gave you a massage and you passed the fuck out.”

“Oh,” Jemma squeaks. “Well. Thank you for… that. I’m sorry I… I must have just been exhausted.”

Bobbi shrugs. “No harm no foul. You have a coffee maker, or are you too British and only drink tea or something?”

“Don’t get up!” Jemma yelps, scrambling out of bed. “I’ll make the coffee! Let me do that. It’s bad enough I - well - I can make the coffee, let me, you’re the guest, I want to -” And with that she runs out of the bedroom, apparently paying no mind to the fact that she’s all but naked.

“So that’s a thing, huh?” Bobbi murmurs, raising an eyebrow at Skye.

Skye snorts. “Yeah. Like I was saying last night, she wants to be good.”

“Well, it’s cute,” Bobbi muses, rolling off the bed and reaching for her slip from yesterday. “As long as you’re okay with her wanting to be good for me, of course. I don’t want to infringe.”

“Oh, you’re not. I mean, we already agreed to this, I just kinda figured that would be part of it.” Skye shrugs.

“Good to know,” Bobbi smirks. “And what about you?”

“You’re pretty much the only person I can imagine bossing me around,” Skye replies, while rummaging around in Jemma’s closet for the oversize T-shirt she keeps there for mornings like this (and giving Bobbi a nice view of her ass).

“Ooh, flattering,” Bobbi hums.

“Coffee is ready, almost!” Jemma exclaims, bustling back into the room and starting to dress (first her bra, then a t-shirt, then after some silent deliberation with herself a pair of leggings, because she knows they won’t judge).

“Hey, c’mere,” Bobbi coaxes, nodding Jemma over. When she obliges, Bobbi sits her down on the edge of the bed and starts petting her hair. “Thank you for being such a good hostess.”

Jemma’s shoulders roll. “You’re welcome. I just want to make sure you have a nice time.”

“Always,” Bobbi says.

“You’re sweet,” Skye murmurs, grabbing Jemma’s hand and kissing her palm. “You’re a great hostess.”

“Mm, thank you,” Jemma smiles. “Now! Come sit, let me get you breakfast.” She rises and goes toward the kitchen, chattering away. “We’ve got cereal, mostly, but if you like I could run down to the corner store and get… something else. Whatever else.” She does not for a moment look like someone who should be going to do errands.

“Don’t do that,” says Skye before Bobbi can reply. “You aren’t fit to go anywhere, honey.”

Jemma pouts. “I’d be fine,” she says, but she sort of doubts it.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bobbi shrugs. “I’m sure you’ve got good cereal.”

Skye ambles over to the cupboard and pulls out her super special box of Froot Loops that has PROPERTY OF SKYE written all over it (not that Jemma would dream of taking any, but Fitz and Trip would). “Healthy cereals suck balls,” she says cheerfully, going to retrieve the milk and a bowl.

“They have their time and place,” Bobbi says with a shrug. “Is that how it goes around here? Froot Loops or health food?”

“I have Cheerios,” Jemma defends. “They’re whole grain but they’re not _too_ health food-y.”

“Or you could have some of my Froot Loops...I guess…” mumbles Skye.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Bobbi hums, batting her eyelashes at Skye.

Skye hums. “I like the sound of that.”

“Good,” Bobbi says, at the same time that Jemma very articulately yelps.

“You’d think she offered to make it worth _your_ while,” Skye teases Jemma.

“I could do that,” Bobbi suggests. “I mean, she’s being such a good hostess. I ought to say thank you.”

“God,” Jemma mumbles, pouring cups of coffee and sliding into a seat at the table. “I’m not just making this up, right?”

“No,” says Skye. “Or if you are, then we’re both making it up at the same time.”

Jemma lets out a sigh of relief.

 

* * *

 

They’re not even very far into the movie (the Ass-Blasters have just attacked the village) when Skye notices that Jemma’s sitting up straighter. Since they’re all sort of congealed into a human pile, this is pretty noticeable. “What’s up, Jem?” she asks.

“I should do Bobbi’s nails!” she exclaims. “I can go get my polish.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Bobbi says, but she’s grinning.

“But I want to!” And Jemma hops up, running into the bathroom.

“More of the being good thing?” Bobbi asks Skye.

Skye laughs. “Yeah. She gets like this sometimes. It’s nice for me, and I guess for you now too.”

Jemma returns with an armful of nail polish bottles, smiling nervously. “I wasn’t sure what color you’d want so I brought a variety,” she says.

“Damn,” Bobbi whistles, sorting through the collection and pulling out a sapphire blue. “Think this one would work?”

“Oh, yes,” Jemma agrees. “It goes very nicely with your eyes. Not that your nails and your eyes are next to each other very often, but they’re both shades of blue and they’re both very pretty.”

“Perfect,” Bobbi murmurs. She arranges herself so her hands are flat on the coffee table and nods expectantly.

Skye chuckles. “Getting right into it, I see.”

“No use wasting time!” Jemma says eagerly, beginning to brush paint over Bobbi’s nails slowly and methodically.

“You’re very good,” Bobbi croons cheerfully.

Skye leans over to kiss Jemma’s cheek. “The best.”

“Thank you both,” Jemma chirps, pausing for just a moment to turn her head and kiss Skye’s mouth in gratitude.

“Shit, and you’re adorable,” Bobbi laughs.

“Jem, you know she already agreed to sleep with us, right?” says Skye playfully. “You don’t have to do all this.”

“I want to,” Jemma says. “I like the idea I can make her feel nice. And I owe her after that massage attempt last night, anyway.”

“I was at it maybe four minutes,” Bobbi chuckles, “but if you wanna pamper me, by all means. It’s been a while since I had a good no-strings-attached pampering.”

“Then I’m glad to provide!” Jemma promises.

“You’re so cute.” Skye nestles back down to watch both the movie and Jemma.

“So did these writers just make shit up as they were going?” Bobbi asks after a few minutes.

Skye grins. “Probably. We gotta make you watch the others, they’re amazing. They added a new part of the ‘life cycle’ in every movie, except for 4 ‘cause that was a prequel.”

“They do seem pretty - what did you call it? Terrimazing?”

“Yeah!” Skye nods eagerly. “They’re the best examples of that.”

“Not to interrupt,” Jemma says shyly, “but I think I’m done? Do you want another coat?”

Bobbi glances down at her nails and then glances back up with a smile. “They’re great,” she says, holding them up for Skye to see. “Don’t you think?”

Skye inspects them and then nods. “Good girl,” she says, petting Jemma’s hair.

“Thank you,” Jemma murmurs, preening. “Shall I do yours, too?”

“Sure.” Skye adjusts herself so Jemma has access to her hands.

“What color?” Jemma asks.

“How about you pick?” Skye asks Bobbi.

“Black,” Bobbi says without a doubt. “And put silver on top, the glittery one.”

“All right!” Jemma says. “That’s going to be lovely. Like tiny constellations.”

“Totally,” replies Skye. “Good idea, Bobbi.”

“Thanks,” Bobbi says coolly, blowing on her fingernails so they dry faster.

So Jemma gets to it, concentrating like she always does, nibbling her lip as she paints, and by the time she’s got to Skye’s second hand Bobbi starts drawing patterns on her back with the pads of her fingers. It’s a challenge, though, it’s a good chance for her to show she’s not easily distracted, so she keeps on painting without a word. But it _does_ feel good.

“You having fun, honey?” Skye asks.

“Yes,” Jemma says primly. “I’m making you both feel spoiled and nice, I hope. That’s fun.”

“You are,” murmurs Skye. “But you always do.”

“Good,” Jemma declares. “I want to.”

“You are,” Bobbi echoes. “You’re being very sweet.”

Once Skye’s nails are done, she grins and says, “Now lemme do yours, it’s only fair.”

Jemma beams. “All right. Pink, maybe?”

“Pink sounds adorable,” Bobbi agrees. “Come sit here while she works.” And she motions to the space between her legs.

“We’re gonna spoil you too,” says Skye, leaning in to give Jemma a quick kiss.


	13. while the only light you'll see is from my glow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Raina get better acquainted, and Raina is determined to give Kara what she needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, thank you to tumblr user [theshelbywyatt](http://theshelbywyatt.tumblr.com/post/130894112190/agents-of-shield-aesthetic-karaina) for unknowingly inspiring this particular pair.
> 
> And tw for mentions of the abusive relationship(s).

_> >Wanna see my ink, then?_

_> >I never gave you my number, did I?_

_> >I asked Skye for it._

_> >I’m flattered you went hunting, then._

_> >So, do you wanna see or not?_

_> >You’re not just asking about sending a photo._

_> >No, I’m not._

_> >Tomorrow night at 8, the Olive Garden, then? Doll up if you want to and we can outclass the place._

 

* * *

 

Karen notices that Kara is overdressed, of course: she compliments the dress (it’s off-white, short, low-cut enough to stand out) and also the shoes (knee-high, wine-colored boots) and also her overall cheerier, more blissfully Bohemian air, but it’s done with hesitation.

“It’s okay,” Kara promises, more than once. “I’m okay.”

“You know you can text me if it’s not,” Karen says. “Whatever you’re dressed up for. I’ll have my phone on me all night.”

“Thank you,” Kara says, and she means it.

 

* * *

 

Raina is waiting in the Olive Garden lobby, all red lips and silk dress and a single flower in her hands, and she’s so stunning and polished that Kara has to take a deep breath and remind herself that she can do this.

“Hey,” she says shyly.

“Hey,” Raina echoes, her lips turning up in a smile. “You look gorgeous.”

Kara startles, blushes. “Thank you,” she mumbles. “Ah, you do too. A lot.”

Raina’s shoulders roll ever-so-slightly, but all she says is, “Yes, we’re outclassing it.”

The hostess calls their reservation (it’s under Alayne, not either of their own names) and Raina rises gracefully. “Oh,” she says after a moment. “This is for you.”

Kara takes the flower hesitantly, biting her lip as she looks it over. It’s silk too, a lovely purple color. “You didn’t have to,” she defers, because that’s what she’s used to.

“I know,” Raina says as they go back to their table. “It means protection against evil.” There’s a pause, because they both know why that matters. “Also anticipation.”

“Thank you,” Kara murmurs, holding it to her chest. “What is it?”

“It’s an anemone,” Raina says with a smile. “Do you want a drink? I could really use a drink.”

 

* * *

 

They’re a basket of breadsticks and half a bottle of wine down when Kara admits, “You make me sort of nervous.”

“Why is that?” Raina asks, even though she knows she makes most people nervous.

Kara shrugs sheepishly. “You don’t give a shit what anyone thinks,” she says. “You’re comfortable in who you are.”

Raina smirks into her glass of wine, amending, “I’m good at faking.”

“Really good, then,” Kara says.

“I get the sense you’ve heard of body dysmorphic disorder,” Raina muses, sipping her wine.

“Yeah,” Kara murmurs, blinking at the abrupt change of subject.

“I hate people who say they ‘got over’ stuff like that,” Raina shrugs, “but it can get better. Meds, therapy.” She smiles showily. “Flowers.”

“How’s that?”

“Who doesn’t like flowers?” Raina asks lightly.

“I don’t think I understand,” Kara mumbles.

“Flowers make people happy,” Raina says. “Flowers are pretty. For a little girl who’s pathologically convinced she’s not pretty, flowers can be a wonderful diversion.”

“Oh,” Kara murmurs. “I’m…”

“Brains are kind of bullshit,” Raina shrugs. “They aren’t helped by negative outside influences, either. It’s just really good finding some little pretty thing that feels like yours.”

“That makes sense,” Kara says thoughtfully.

“You’ll figure it out,” Raina promises, smiling more genuinely than she’s done all year probably. Kara brings out a side of her she didn’t realize she had, apparently.

“One thing at a time, I guess,” Kara agrees.

“You’re not broken, is the thing,” Raina continues. “Or at least no more than anyone else.”

“I like that thought,” Kara says softly. “We’re all probably fucked up one way or another. It doesn’t necessarily make us bad.”

“We are,” Raina agrees. “I could tell you some _shit_ about people. Also surprisingly good things, but that’s not the point right now.”

“Can I take you up on that later?” Kara asks, giggling. “Right now I feel drunk enough that I might just tweet it.”

“Well, that’s cute,” Raina says. “Of course.”

“Cool,” Kara says. “Thanks.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Raina says, because she’s not good at accepting thanks. “I mean, I’m just sharing nonsense I’d do anyway.”

“Still.”

 

* * *

 

“So do you want to see it?” Kara asks once they’re back to Raina’s place. (Considering Kara is still between things, it’s the logical choice.)

Raina raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to show me?” _I’m not demanding_ is the implication.

“Yeah,” Kara says. “Yeah, I really do. Can we… bedroom?”

“Why, Miss Palamas,” Raina giggles.

“I’m just… that feels safer than stripping in your living room,” Kara laughs nervously. She wants to show Raina, but she really doesn’t want to show anyone else right now.

“That’s fine,” Raina says, softer all of a sudden like she’s figuring it out. She nods Kara down the hall and opens the door to her room.

Somehow it is and isn’t what Kara expected. It’s oddly monochromatic, mostly golds and browns and yellows, and the furniture is surprisingly clean-lined. But the bedspread is a gold-toned cherry blossom print. There are off-white floral lights around the ceiling. It suits.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks,” Raina chirps. “There’s a good story about most of it, if you like stories about low-rent con artistry.”

“You’ve had a very interesting life, haven’t you?” Kara asks.

“Often not good-interesting, but yes.” Raina goes to sit on her bed, smiling. “So, the tattoo.”

“Yeah,” Kara murmurs, and she turns her back to Raina as she unzips her dress. Once it’s off, she pulls her hair over her left shoulder to highlight the image - a beautiful red pomegranate flower - on her right.

“Who doesn’t like flowers?” she teases.

“Shit, _agapiméni mou_ ,” Raina intones.

“You speak Greek?” Kara exclaims.

“A little bit,” Raina says. “I thought you’d like that.”

“Is it part of your maybe-good-interesting life?” Kara asks.

“Something like that,” Raina says. “Can I come get a closer look?”

Kara nods. “Be careful touching,” she whispers, “it’s still tender.”

“I’ll be the very carefullest,” Raina promises, coming to trace over the ink with just the pads of her fingers. She’s expecting the way Kara shivers when she’s touched and she isn’t offended. She understands. She remembers that.

“I’m sorry,” Kara murmurs.

“It’s all right,” Raina says. “Tell me if you don’t like anything I’m doing.”

Kara swallows. “I like what you’re doing,” she whispers. “I like your hands, they’re soft.” It’s a simplistic statement, but she’s relearning the language of desire.

And Raina also remembers that. “Thank you,” she croons. “Your tattoo is beautiful. You’re beautiful.” She’s also expecting the way Kara cringes when she’s complimented, and it makes her frown, but she passes by it.

“I don’t… you’re sweet,” Kara murmurs.

That makes Raina laugh. “I’m the opposite of sweet,” she says. “But that’s what you deserve, so I guess you’re bringing it out in me.”

Kara turns to judge the look on Raina’s face. She looks like she’s being honest. “Really.”

“Really,” Raina agrees, and she kisses Kara, soft at first and then more passionately.

“ _Shaa, elakiri_ ,” Kara breathes against Raina’s lips, inching closer.

“That’s not Greek,” Raina says, somewhere between curious and amused.

“Sinhalese,” Kara explains. “My mom is Sri Lankan.”

“How wonderful,” Raina exclaims. “We’re a beautiful pair.”

Kara cracks a smile. “Beautiful,” she repeats, like she’s testing out the word, and she hesitantly wraps arms around Raina’s shoulders.

“Yes,” Raina hums. “I suppose I should strip, too, shouldn’t I. Even the playing field.”

“Grant liked it when I was naked and he wasn’t,” Kara whispers before she can stop herself. “He never said why, but I think… I think he liked feeling like I was his doll to dress or not.”

“A power trip,” Raina nods solemnly. “Yeah, he does like those.” Before she says anything further on the subject, she unzips and steps out of her dress, throwing it over a chair. _None of that here._ “Are you tired of hearing people say they’re sorry yet?”

“A little,” Kara sighs. “I think it’s different from you, though.”

For all of the reasons they may never actually discuss.

“Well,” Raina murmurs, “I’m sorry.” Gently she steps forward, presses her body against Kara’s. “Do you want to keep on kissing?”

One decision at a time, which Kara appreciates. “Yes,” she says, and her eyes stray toward the bed.

“Would you like to sit?” Raina asks.

“Yes,” Kara repeats, making a face like she wants to be led.

So Raina obliges, and once they’ve sat down she says, “You’re very sweet. Sweet and pretty.”

Kara lets out a little sigh. “I actually believe that when you say it,” she whispers.

“Good,” Raina says. “I mean it. This is beautiful…” She reaches around to trace Kara’s tattoo. “And this is beautiful…” She slides her hand across Kara’s side and chest. “And all of this is beautiful.” She brushes a thumb over Kara’s lips, her cheekbones, her scar.

“Thank you,” Kara says, and on one hand she feels silly talking so basically but she’s glad to say it and really mean it.

Raina pauses, making a face like she’s thinking about something. “Do you like oral?” she asks finally.

“I don’t really, like, uh, I don’t really like giving,” Kara admits. “To guys. I think I could, but I never have before. I’ve never tried with a girl, though. I could, if you want me to?”

“Receiving,” Raina corrects. “Do you like receiving oral?”

Kara blushes.

“Have you?”

“Nobody’s ever…” Kara frowns. “I mean, Grant didn’t, he’d never…”

“Of fucking course he didn’t,” Raina says, actually hisses. “ _God_ forbid he pleasure you without receiving immediate gratification. I hope he burns in hell.”

“Because he didn’t…”

“Because he didn’t respect you,” Raina clarifies. “Because he doesn’t respect anyone, probably - rightly - not even himself.”

“He doesn’t,” Kara agrees in a whisper. “I don’t know who he hates more, himself or everyone else in the world.”

“It would be sad if he wasn’t such a shitbag because of it,” Raina declares. “But enough about that horror. I’d like to help you figure out what you like, what makes you feel good, with no complications.”

Tentatively Kara reaches for Raina’s hand, the one with the tattoo. “I like kissing you,” she says. “I like you touching me, like I said. I like that you seem like you like touching me.”

“I do,” Raina confirms. “You’re this delicate girl who’s been through so much shit, but you’re still alive. You’re a survivor. It’s hardcore.”

“I don’t feel hardcore,” Kara says.

“Well, you are,” Raina insists. “But - well. Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know,” Kara admits.

“I don’t blame you, but would it be all right if I tried to help you trust me more?”

“Yeah,” Kara nods. “Yeah, I mean - even just how you’re talking, it feels better.”

Raina smiles like she knows a secret, and then she asks, “Have you ever been tied up?”

“Sorta,” Kara mumbles. “He, uh. Handcuffs. He, he liked knowing I’d stay where he put me.”

She looks so forlorn that Raina leans forward to kiss her, nudging her back toward the headboard as she continues. “I don’t like handcuffs much,” she says. “They’re not pretty and they’re not special. They’re too harsh. I don’t use them much.”

“Okay,” Kara says, sounding unsure.

“Would you be willing to let me try tying you up some other way?” Raina asks.

Kara tilts her head. “Why?”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to worry about anything but feeling good," Raina explains. She leans to pull a box from under her bed. “Look through this and tell me if you like any of it.”

Kara starts picking through the box, frowning. “What is this for?” she asks, sounding vaguely perplexed as she regards a vaguely wandlike pink crystal… thing.

“Not for tonight, probably,” Raina says, smirking just a bit. “It’s Swarovski crystal. And it’s exactly what you think it is.”

Kara’s expression goes from curious to horrified.

“Why would you want to shove Swarovski crystal anywhere in your body? I have no idea,” Raina shrugs. “It was a gift, and it’s so weird I like to keep it around just in case. But considering that if you let me I want to teach you the joys of oral sex tonight, it’s not worth further rumination.”

“I’m going to take your word for it,” Kara says shakily. “I kind of don’t want anything shoved in my body for a while, I don’t think. Is that okay?”

“Whatever you want,” Raina promises.

Kara hums in concentration as she sorts through the contents of the box - way too many things that she doesn’t want to admit to not really understanding, like pink rubber clothespins and a red featherduster, and a few she gets, like the roll of black tape and the cat o’ nine tails (that makes her shiver, which makes Raina vow to hide it next time) - and finally she digs out what for all intents and purposes are just silk sashes. “Would you show me how you’d use these?”

Raina nods, because that’s what she had been expecting, really. “Sitting up or lying down?”

“Up,” Kara says after a moment of thought.

“All right,” Raina agrees. “Do I have leave to blindfold you?”

“Yes,” Kara says after a moment of thought.

“I’m not going to do that until I’ve got you done up, though,” Raina adds, nudging Kara’s legs apart. “I want you to see exactly what I’m doing so you know, so you can tell me if it’s not all right. Bend your knees and grab your ankles?”

“All right,” Kara echoes, leaning forward slightly to facilitate this.

Raina smiles. “Thank you, beloved,” she says, and then she’s wrapping sashes around, fixing Kara’s arms to her lower legs. “What’s your safeword?”

The question startles Kara. “My…?”

Raina shakes her head pityingly. “Something you can say if you’re not into whatever I’m doing,’ she explains. “Want to use the stoplight system?”

“ _Kýrie_ ,” Kara says instead, smiling without much humor. “None of those here tonight. None of that.”

Every time she talks, she kills Raina a little bit, because she’d meant to expose the man and might have just given him a taste of what he could get away with and what he could get away with was wounding a girl who’s actually innocent, but she doesn’t say this. What she says is, “That’s true. Are you comfortable for now?”

“Yeah,” Kara agrees. “Yeah, it feels snug, but in a nice way.”

“Can I put the blindfold on you now?”

“Please?” Kara whispers, and she finds she means it, finds she’s actually warm to the idea of just letting go and letting Raina.

“Beloved girl,” Raina coos, coming to sit behind Kara and wrap the final sash around her eyes. “All good?”

“All good,” Kara nods. “It’s weird, it’s… I’m not used to feeling safe in the dark.”

Raina leans to kiss the sensitive skin of Kara’s tattoo, then start working kisses down her spine. “I’m not doing this to have one over on you, _agapiméni mou_ , I want you to know. I want you to be able to shake the rest of the world off for a little while and just feel.”

“Thank you,” Kara breathes, arching back against Raina’s mouth.

Of course, the second that’s done is the second Raina maneuvers around front of Kara and starts pressing kisses to to her legs almost thoughtfully. “I want you to feel right in your skin,” she whispers, kissing the back of Kara’s knee. “I know how difficult that can be.”

“Yeah,” Kara murmurs. “But you, you actually want me because…”

“Because you’re special,” Raina says, and she nips gently at Kara’s thigh.

“Oh,” Kara squeaks, “oh, that’s…”

“Too much?” Raina asks. “ _Kýrie_?”

Kara shakes her head, whimpering. “It’s okay,” she says, though faintly. “Just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Okay,” Raina says, and she kisses that same spot. “Don’t hesitate to stop me, okay?”

“Okay,” Kara whispers. That in and of itself is novel. “Thank you.”

“Of course, _agapiméni mou_ ,” Raina says. She kisses up the inside of Kara’s thigh softly, slowly until Kara’s head falls back and she’s making soft moaning noises, all but incoherent. It’s desperately clear that nobody has paid attention to her in any tender way for a very long time, if ever, and if Raina were the sort to cry she would feel like doing.

As is, she just feels more determined to do this one thing right.

“Beautiful girl,” she breathes. “Sweet angel, my beloved.” They’re not names she would use on most lovers, but they’re the ones Kara needs to hear and so they’re the ones Raina wants to use. She leans in toward Kara’s clit, and the girl is trembling, she’s shaking, and when Raina’s lips brush her clit she bursts into tears, loud messy tears that slip out from under the blindfold.

“Oh,” she shouts, fingers tightening around her calves.

“Kara, dear?”

“ _Keep going_ ,” Kara screams, voice breaking. “God, please, just - please.”

So Raina does, exploring Kara with lips and tongue and just the barest hint of teeth, holding Kara’s hips at least steadier, and Kara sniffles and sighs and keens, and Raina thinks this might be the most emotional sex she’s ever had but she doesn’t question it.

It takes a while to work Kara up, but when she’s very clearly on her way she suddenly whimpers, “I don’t deserve this.”

Raina pauses.

“I’m so _filthy_ , so - so - why would anyone, I’m not pretty, I’m not good, I don’t - I’m not -” By this point Kara’s tears have picked up again and she sounds on the verge of a panic attack, the kind that Raina hasn’t had in a _long_ time but that she still understands.

So she presses the flat of her hand over Kara’s center, rests her other hand on top of one of Kara’s. “Hey,” she whispers, “be with me, angel.”

Kara makes a confused sound like she’s just waking up.

“Be with me,” Raina repeats. “Right here. Steady, just listening to me.”

“Uh-huh,” Kara mumbles, making a visible effort to calm her breathing.

“There is nothing nice in this world, _nothing_ , that you do not deserve,” Raina says, soft but firm. “You can, you should feel pleasure, and you should feel it regularly, in whatever form you desire. You have no reason to feel guilty, and anyone who would make you feel that way should be stabbed at least seven hundred times.”

Despite herself, that makes Kara giggle. “Seven hundred,” she repeats.

“And if they made you feel guilty for feeling pleasure like this, let’s throw them off a cliff,” Raina adds. Slowly she slides her middle finger down over Kara’s clit, begins to rub almost soothingly. “Anyone worth anything wants you to feel good. Anyone worth anything values you not in spite of but with your self-professed imperfections.”

Kara sighs. “I think I forgot what getting what I want this way is supposed to feel like.”

“May I show you?” Raina asks quietly, and off Kara’s frantic nod she replaces her fingers with her tongue. She sucks on Kara’s clit for longer than Kara could have imagined possible, and when Kara does finally come, Raina cleans her and nudges her legs together and carefully turns her on her side.

“Oh my god,” Kara says.

“That’s just the start,” Raina says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _agapiméni mou_ ; "my beloved"  
>  _shaa, elakiri_ ; approximately "wow, great"  
>  _kýrie_ ; "sir"
> 
> Slightly precedes [but I'd settle for an honest mistake in the name of one sweet love](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/12161408).


	14. message to the world, can you feel the heat is rising?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following a prescreening of Episode VII, Bobbi and Skye and Jemma experiment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There aren't really any _Star Wars_ spoilers here, though there's a tiny baby spoiler. (Also go see it immediately.)
> 
> Here it is! Told you we had a plan.

“...and like, I loved the movie, you guys know I did, but I can’t _believe_ they-”

“Spoilers!” Jemma exclaims, batting at Skye’s arm. “Don’t spoil, it’s rude.”

Bobbi chuckles. “You’re cute.”

“Well, we’re still in the theater, we can’t spoil in here,” Jemma says very reasonably.

“Okay, okay,” grumbles Skye. “You’re right. Your girl kicked ass, though,” she says to Bobbi.

Bobbi, who’s naturally dressed as Rey, grins. “She was incredible,” she agrees. “Not that I expected anything less. Yours both made quite a showing, too.”

“Well, I don’t know that Leia is exactly _mine_ ,” says Jemma, who’s approximating something circa Episode V, “but she is wonderful.”

Skye preens. “Hell yeah he did. He’s Han Solo!”

Jemma squeezes Skye’s hand. “You have good taste,” she says.

Humming, Skye nuzzles Jemma’s shoulder. “Thanks. And thanks for coming with us tonight.”

“Of course,” Jemma says. “It’s important to you, both of you, and that means I want to be part of it. And, truth told, I ended up having much more fun than I thought I would.”

“Of course you did,” Bobbi laughs. “It’s _Star Wars_ with your two favorite girls.”

Looking up at her shyly, Jemma reaches for Bobbi’s hand as well. “That’s true,” she says. “And I’m thrilled I haven’t got class till the afternoon tomorrow, I don’t think I could possibly sleep just now.”

“Me neither, I’m totally wired!” Skye’s practically skipping as they leave the theater and head for the car.

“What kind of wired?” Bobbi asks suggestively.

The question makes Jemma giggle nervously, and Skye smirk sexily. “I mean, what were _you_ thinking?” she responds.

“I think you know,” Bobbi purrs. “Jemma’s place is the closest.”

“I suppose it is,” Jemma squeaks.

“And Fitz is pulling an all-nighter in the library, right? So it’ll be...empty.” Skye purrs the last word.

“Yes,” Jemma says, high-pitched.

“Isn’t that convenient,” Bobbi murmurs, grinning.

The drive mostly involves discussion about the movie and Skye and Bobbi trading theories about Episode VIII, and when they reach Jemma’s apartment and pile out, Skye grabs Jemma and kisses her before doing the same to Bobbi. “Couldn’t resist,” she says.

“I’m not complaining,” Bobbi laughs. “Lead the way, princess.”

Jemma blushes. “That feels nice,” she says as she takes them into the building.

“It’s not technically correct anymore, though,” says Skye. “She’s a _general_ now. But, y’know, whatever you want, Jem.”

Jemma giggles. “Let me try that on, then?”

“Of course, _general_ ,” murmurs Skye, leaning in to kiss Jemma’s neck once they’ve stopped in front of her door.

“Oh,” Jemma hums, turning her key in the lock, “that’s very nice, too.”

“Well, since your outfit’s original trilogy, I think we can say princess if we wanna,” Bobbi muses. “I’m in favor of both of those. You wear them well.”

Skye nods. “You really do, honey.” Her voice drops low on the last word.

Jemma rolls her shoulders, and before she can think twice she’s leaned up to kiss Skye passionately.

That surprises Skye enough that all she does is lean into the kiss and moan eagerly.

“Pretty,” Jemma mumbles, throwing arms around Skye’s waist.

“No, you,” whispers Skye.

“How about you’re both pretty,” Bobbi suggests. “I happen to think that’s true.”

Skye hums. “And you too, Bobbi.”

“Gosh,” Bobbi giggles. “The bedroom would be the next logical step.”

“And we do so want to be logical,” Jemma says playfully, breaking away from Skye just enough to start moving toward her room.

Skye snickers. “Not sure logic is quite what we’re going for here, honey.”

“I think this is perfectly logical!” Jemma exclaims. “We’re all fond of each other and we’ve done… things and we’re keyed up, I think this is the logical conclusion!”

“You’re not gonna fall asleep on me?” Bobbi teases.

Jemma shakes her head almost frantically. “No, no, I promise.” To confirm this, once they’re in her room she stands on tiptoes to kiss Bobbi, too.

“Hello, then,” Bobbi hums. “Do I have leave to undress you, _general_?”

Jemma moans instead of answering.

A series of thumps comes from the wall that borders Fitz’s room. “Oi!” he calls. “Keep it down, you animals!”

Jemma’s eyes go wide. “I thought you were out,” she exclaims.

“Change of plans,” he says, sounding grumpy about it. “I am still _working_ though.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bobbi says. “We can keep it down.”

Skye snorts. “But Jemma’s so noisy, I dunno if we can.”

“I think we might be able to manage,” Bobbi muses. “Put a towel under the door, ask her very nicely, and there’s always…” She reaches into her purse casually and pulls out what Jemma’s fairly sure are a blindfold and a ball gag. A pretty blue ball gag that matches the color of the Skywalker family lightsaber. And then there’s…

“Oh my god,” Skye says, bursting into giggles. “Is that a light-up dildo?”

Bobbi nods. “Unfortunately, my harness is still in the car, so if that’s appealing, I’ll have to run and fetch.”

“Um,” Jemma says. “I.”

“Tell you what,” Bobbi says thoughtfully. “I run and fetch on the chance you’re interested and you give it some thought while Skye gets you ready for me.”

“How did you know?” Jemma asks in a whisper.

Skye giggles again. “You’re not exactly subtle, honey. It’s adorable.”

“Well, at least you think that,” Jemma says sheepishly.

“We do,” Bobbi agrees. “I’ll be right back, all right?”

“My keys are on the dresser,” Jemma says faintly.

Skye ambles over to the drawer where she knows Jemma keeps the scarves and rummages around for them. “Wanna spread out on the bed, honey?” she asks.

Biting her lip, Jemma nods. “Would you undress me first?”

“Oh, yeah, duh. Bobbi forgot to do that.” Skye comes over to pull Jemma’s vest off her shoulders, then her white top, pausing for kisses the whole time.

Jemma hums, though she tries to keep it quiet, and she moves as needed for Skye to be able to remove her clothes until she’s down to her white lace panties and white lace bra thing (it’s got straps and a high neck with a giant hole where her cleavage is so it looks more like lace tit armor, but her shirt had a high neck too, so she could get away with it).

“Mmm, you look so cute, princess,” Skye murmurs, pressing a kiss between Jemma’s breasts.

“Thank you,” Jemma says. “I like being that for you.”

“You’re _so_ damn cute. Here, lie down.” Skye herds her gently toward the bed.

“We’re really doing this,” Jemma whispers once she’s flat on the bed.

Skye grins. “Yup. Sure are. You good?”

“Yeah,” Jemma says. “I’m really nervous but I - I’m excited, I think. Good nervous.”

“Well, you just let us know if you wanna stop, and we will,” Skye promises. “Arms up and out?”

“I, I know,” Jemma agrees, getting into position. “I trust you.”

“Thank you,” Skye says as she ties first one of Jemma’s wrists and then the other to the headboard. “How’s that, honey?”

“Yeah,” Jemma sighs, tugging just a little to test the scarves. “Feels nice.”

“Good,” murmurs Skye, still holding one scarf. “You want a blindfold?”

Jemma attempts to shrug. “Whatever you want.”

“Mmm, okay. I think that sounds fun. Tip your head forward?”

“Okay,” Jemma says, doing so.

“Good girl.” Skye wraps the scarf around her head and carefully ties it. “Tight enough?”

Jemma nods. “Thank you, you’re so good to me.”

“You deserve it, princess,” says Skye, kissing her on the lips. “You work so hard, you deserve to be spoiled.”

“Oh,” Jemma whimpers, “oh, you’re incredible.”

“You are.” Skye takes her time pressing kisses all over Jemma’s skin, almost methodically.

It’s not so long before Bobbi slips back into the room, keeping quiet as she undresses and eases onto the bed. Jemma is every bit as gorgeous laid out like this as could be imagined, so she takes a moment to really appreciate it before she taps Skye on the shoulder.

Skye was half-expecting it, so she doesn’t jump, only grins and shifts off Jemma so Bobbi can have a turn.

First Bobbi kisses Skye, making sure they’re both brushing against Jemma in some way, but she’s got her eyes open and staring at Skye like she’s daring her. Then she straddles one of Jemma’s legs and leans to kiss from her jaw to her lips.

“ _God_ ,” Jemma moans, and Bobbi looks up at Skye, smirking.

“Holy shit,” breathes Skye, just watching Bobbi with wide eyes. “You’re so…”

“I know,” Bobbi replies smugly. “You wanna stick something under the door?”

“Sure.” Skye gets up, a little reluctantly, and drags the rug that’s at the foot of Jemma’s bed to the door, wadding it up so it’s covering the gap entirely.

Meanwhile, Bobbi has picked up the gag, contemplating it. “You up for this, honey?”

Jemma nods, and it somehow manages to be eager and nervous all at once.

“We haven’t done that yet,” says Skye, shrugging. “Still learning about all this.”

“All right,” Bobbi murmurs, and she moves to rest the gag against Jemma’s hand for a moment. “If you don’t like it, we can stop.”

“I think I’m gonna like it,” Jemma whispers in a rush.

“Yeah, I think so too,” Bobbi says fondly. “But if you don’t, I want you to reach your hand up and tap on your headboard for me, okay?” She lifts Jemma’s hand to gently tap out the Morse code SOS sequence.

“Okay,” Jemma says breathily.

Skye leans down to kiss Jemma’s cheek. “You’re so pretty,” she whispers.

That makes Jemma purr, and like she can anticipate what Bobbi’s about to ask she lifts her head up and opens her mouth. “Good, good girl,” Bobbi hums, very gently placing the ball in Jemma’s mouth and fastening the strap behind her head.

Petting Jemma’s side, Skye comments, “You look good like this, Jem.”

Jemma whimpers out what’s meant to be a thank you, followed by what’s meant to be an apology when she realizes how nonsense she sounds.

“Hey, you’re okay, it’s cute,” reassures Skye. She runs her hand down Jemma’s cheek.

‘It’s _so_ cute,” Bobbi agrees, leaning back down to kiss Jemma’s other cheek.

“Besides, we get what you’re saying.” Skye grins. “You’re pretty easy to understand.”

That makes Jemma relax, and she’s probably smiling. She even feels daring enough to roll her hips a bit like she’s requesting attention.

“Is that how it goes?” Bobbi asks, sounding amused.

“I think so,” says Skye, running her hand over Jemma’s stomach. “What do you wanna do first?”

“Let’s work her up,” Bobbi suggests, grinning wickedly.

Skye returns the grin. “Sounds fun. How?”

“Well,” Bobbi says, kissing Jemma’s collarbone, “I’d like to see exactly…” She moves to kiss Jemma’s stomach. “Where…” She kisses Jemma’s side. “Will get her most excited.”

“Ooh, I like your ideas.” Skye leans down to start kissing her all over too.

“I mean, you probably know some of the best spots,” Bobbi murmurs, scooting up to nip Jemma’s neck and immediately soothe the spot with her tongue.

“She likes that,” says Skye. “She also likes…” She scoots forward to run her fingernails lightly down the inside of Jemma’s arm.

Jemma shivers, straining to lean into Skye’s touch.

“Ooh,” Bobbi says, dragging her nails across Jemma’s other arm. “That’s so pretty. You like feeling us on you like that, huh, honey?”

Jemma nods, mumbling her assent.

“I like it too.” Skye rubs circles into Jemma’s arms. “What a nice girl.”

“The very nicest princess,” Bobbi agrees, and she kisses the faint red lines on Jemma’s skin. “Thank you for having me over to play.”

“Course,” says Skye, twisting to kiss Bobbi’s cheek. “What else would we be doing after _Star Wars_ , sleeping?”

Bobbi shakes her head. “I don’t just mean tonight, weirdo.”

“Oh,” Skye giggles. “Well, yeah, you’re hot and awesome, why wouldn’t we want you?”

There are a lot of answers to that, all of which are too serious to get into during a threesome, so she just shrugs. “It’s just cool,” she says, and then to change the subject she slips her hand down to tease over Jemma’s panties. “I think what we’re doing is working.”

“Mm, so it is,” hums Skye. “Think maybe we should do something about that?”

‘I think maybe we should,” Bobbi agrees. “You start us off, okay?”

“Sure thing.” Skye adjusts so she’s lying between Jemma’s legs, and reaches to hook her fingers under Jemma’s panties. “Want these off, honey?”

Jemma’s yes comes out mostly vowel, but it’s clear what she intends.

So Skye eases them off of her, almost teasingly. “You’re _really_ enjoying this,” she says as she tosses them onto the floor. “Look at her, Bobbi.”

“It’s so hard to do anything but,” Bobbi says. “She’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Damn right,” murmurs Skye, then, without further buildup, she starts lapping at Jemma.

That causes Jemma to whimper, to push her hips against Skye’s mouth like there’s nothing else in the world. For her right now, there sort of isn’t.

Skye chuckles and grips Jemma’s hips while she continues to lick. Jemma’s always responsive, but it feels like she’s even more so tonight. Which, she supposes, makes sense - everything is special and exciting.

Jemma doesn’t notice she’s mumbling thank yous until Bobbi kisses her breasts and says, “You’re welcome, general,” and that in turn makes her keen.

Skye’s moaning a little too, because Jemma just tastes really damn good, and she’s loving the way Jemma’s squirming around. She sucks Jemma’s clit into her mouth for a moment to see how she’ll react.

It’s with what sounds like a squeak, a needy desperate sort of high-pitched noise, and Jemma letting her head thrash to one side like she can’t help herself. “You’re good at that,” Bobbi observes.

Pausing for a second to smirk at Bobbi, Skye replies, “Damn right I am.”

“Tell me,” Bobbi says, “would you know when honey’s just about there?”

“‘Course,” scoffs Skye, “I can always tell.”

“Perfect,” Bobbi murmurs, laughing softly as she kisses Jemma’s inner arm. “I don’t want you to stop what you’re doing until you’re absolutely certain.”

Skye laughs and goes back to mouthing at Jemma. She has a feeling she knows what Bobbi’s getting at, and it sounds fun.

Jemma whimpers, quite honestly thrashing against the bed to the best of her ability, because she’s fuzzy-headed enough she hasn’t _quite_ figured out the plan yet but she knows that right now she’s going mad. She’s probably trying to say Skye’s and Bobbi’s names, though that’s mostly clear from context clues, but she’s loud enough even with the gag that Bobbi reaches up to stroke her cheek and whisper, “Ssh, princess.”

All that earns is a slight whine and a nod.

Skye makes a satisfied noise and dips her tongue inside Jemma.

Jemma’s next noises are more incoherent, more frantic, and she’s making a face like she’s trying to be good but it’s _so hard_ , which is exactly what Bobbi planned, so she just alternates kisses and bites all over Jemma’s chest, murmuring, “Pretty girl.”

Skye can feel that Jemma’s getting close, so she eases off with a final kiss to Jemma’s clit and then says huskily, “Hey Bobbi, wanna make out?”

Seemingly oblivious to Jemma’s distraught cries, Bobbi lifts her head and grins. “I really do. Sit up.”

Doing so, Skye leans forward to kiss Bobbi hungrily. They’re being kind of mean right now, but it’s _fun_.

“She tastes amazing,” Bobbi murmurs, fisting her hand in Skye’s hair to pull her closer.

“Right?” breathes Skye before she slips her tongue into Bobbi’s mouth.

Jemma whimpers, sounding distraught.

“Does she get impatient?” Bobbi asks, gently raking fingernails down Skye’s back.

Shivering, Skye nods. “A little, sometimes. But she can wait, she’s a good girl.”

“She is,” Bobbi agrees. “So pretty.”

Skye hums agreement as she nips at Bobbi’s neck. “So’re you.”

“Hey, now, did I say you could use teeth?” Bobbi asks softly.

“No,” says Skye, grinning. “Surprise?”

Bobbi shakes her head and bites down on Skye’s shoulder. “No teeth unless I say.”

Skye moans and lets her head loll against Bobbi. “Okay,” she says, too turned on to argue.

Bobbi nods, satisfied, and uses the opportunity to start working kisses up Skye’s neck. “Much better,” she says. “You’re pretty good yourself.”

Pressing closer to Bobbi, Skye murmurs, “Thanks. God, you’re hot, it’s...it’s nuts is what.”

“That shouldn’t be unusual for you,” Bobbi murmurs, “considering you get to play with that princess most of the time.”

“Well, yeah, of course, but I’m usually the one calling the shots. This is…different.” Skye sighs when Bobbi nips at her neck.

“Because I’m bossing you around?” Bobbi teases, because she likes hearing it outright.

Skye snorts. “If you _have_ to put it that way. ‘S kinda nice.”

“Glad you think so,” Bobbi hums. “You’re fun to boss. Both of you,” she adds, absently rubbing Jemma’s side and reveling in the happy moan that earns.

Preening, Skye replies, “Thanks. Hey, not that I’m not enjoying this, but you want a turn with her?”

“I don’t know, does she want that?” Bobbi asks playfully, even though she knows the answer.

Jemma attempts a “please” as sweetly as she’s able.

“I think that sounds _lovely_ ,” Bobbi says, nudging Skye out of the way.

“Awesome,” replies Skye, moving so Bobbi can have full access to Jemma.

Bobbi gets down on her stomach and nuzzles Jemma’s thighs, which by now are consistently trembling. “You wanna come, honey?”

Jemma nods, whimpering.

“Think I should let her?” Bobbi asks Skye.

Skye nods. “I think she’s definitely earned it.” She reaches to pet Jemma’s hair.

“She has,” Bobbi agrees, and she moves in to suck on Jemma’s clit, focusing on that and the sweet noises it prompts for a minute.

“Sounds like you’re doing a pretty good job,” says Skye. “Enjoying yourself, princess?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Jemma almost says, and partly out of honesty and partly because at this exact moment she’s almost enjoying how she’s barely making sense, she mumbles something that’s meant to be, “that’s an understatement.”

“You get that one?” Bobbi asks Skye, not waiting to keep kissing all over Jemma’s flesh.

Skye murmurs agreement as she leans down to kiss Jemma’s neck. “She’s having a great time. We’re being so good to her, huh, honey?”

Jemma nods, whimpers a “thank you.”

“That’s so pretty,” Bobbi says, and she dips her tongue into Jemma for just a moment before returning to her clit.

“Such a pretty girl,” Skye whispers, kissing Jemma on the lips as best she can.

The combination of that kiss and Bobbi’s tongue sends Jemma over the edge, wailing and shaking until Bobbi finally stops mouthing at her.

“God, I never get tired of that.” Skye strokes Jemma’s cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

All Jemma can do is sigh happily and lean against Skye’s hand.

“Making you happy is fun,” Bobbi comments, tilting her head. “And I’ve gotta say, watching you like this is getting me pretty worked up.”

“Oh yeah?” says Skye, grinning. “You want me to do something about that? Or her?”

“I think I wanna get you off first, actually,” Bobbi says. “I wanna see if that’s just as pretty. I kind of suspect it will be.”

Skye tries to chuckle but it comes out more ragged than she means it to. “Sounds good to me. You wanna help me with…” She gestures to her clothes.

Bobbi nods. “You gonna be okay if we stand, honey?” she asks Jemma.

That sounds like the worst thing, not being in contact with either of them, but it’s practical and they’ll be back soon, there’s enough of Jemma’s rational mind left that she knows that, so she nods.

“We’ll be fast,” Bobbi promises.

Skye adds “Promise” as she slips off her vest and reaches for the zipper on her pants.

Bobbi unbuckles her belts and pulls the rest of her clothes off in no time flat, leaving herself in nothing but sheer white panties (the tank top was tight enough to support her chest, so she didn’t even bother with a bra). “You wanna try that out?” she asks Skye, nodding to the dildo and her harness.

Skye, who’s completely naked, nods. “Been awhile for me, but I can’t pass up the opportunity to get fucked with a lightsaber dildo,” she says, grinning.

“Well, it’s a novelty, but I’ve been told I’m also rather handy with it,” Bobbi replies.

“I bet,” purrs Skye. “How d’you want me?”

“First things first,” Bobbi says. “How about we sit our girl up.”

The word “up” makes Jemma strain to sit herself up, though of course she doesn’t get much farther than a few inches off the bed.

“How were you thinking?”

Bobbi shrugs. “Any way that she’ll be safe and comfortable and you can sit between her legs.’

“Okay, can do.” Skye goes over to untie Jemma’s wrists from the headboard, petting her as she does. “Hey, honey, can you sit up?”

Careful and not altogether seeming to be truly in her body, Jemma pushes herself up to sitting and leans back against her headboard, expectant.

“Thank you,” murmurs Skye, retying her wrists as best she can and petting down Jemma’s arm. “Now I’m gonna get between your legs, okay?”

Jemma nods, wiggling a bit to get herself comfortable.

Skye eases herself down, settling in. “Okay,” she says to Bobbi. “Bring it on.”

Bobbi sets up the harness and pulls it on, grinning. “Feel free to giggle, I know it can be funny,” she says, because a glowing blue dick is never not funny.

And Skye definitely is. “Where did you even get this?” she can’t help but ask, once she’s calmed down a little.

“Don’t remember,” Bobbi shrugs, which possibly means it was a gift. She reaches into her purse for a condom to roll on. “It seemed appropriate for the evening.”

“No kidding. Uh, do you want me to, uh, do anything before…?”

“Just get comfy,” says Bobbi, approaching the bed. “You know better than me what you consider a comfortable position to get fucked.”

Skye’s leaning back so her ribs are resting on Jemma’s hips, and she nods. “I’m ready if you are.”

“I like that your dirty talk is so businesslike,” Bobbi laughs, moving up in front of Skye and positioning the head of the dildo at her entrance.

Faintly, Jemma giggles.

“Yeah, well, I don’t have a lot of practice,” Skye replies. “Fuck me already.”

“Bossy, bossy,” Bobbi chides, but she starts to gently roll her hips.

Skye grunts as she adjusts to it. “‘s nice.”

“Just getting started,” Bobbi croons.

“Hey, you’re already doing better than the last time I had a dick in me,” jokes Skye. “That guy was nice enough, but he lasted five minutes tops.”

“On one hand, sorry to hear it,” Bobbi shrugs. “On the other, that worked out for all of us.”

Jemma mumbles out a soft “love you.”

“Love you too, Jem,” Skye says, or moans really. “Little more, Bobbi?”

“Glad to,” Bobbi hums, leaning into it a bit and settling her hands on Skye’s shoulders. “No need to be shy, either.”

Skye reaches up to grab onto Bobbi, rocking her hips to meet Bobbi’s thrusts and whimpering obligingly. “Not planning on it.”

“Why don’t you tell honey exactly what I’m doing to you right now?” Bobbi murmurs.

“She’s fucking me nice and slow,” Skye says. “And it’s so good, but she could go faster.”

Bobbi chuckles, picking up speed but only just. “And?”

“And it’s filling me up and she’s so hot,” whimpers Skye. “Bobbi, you’re so goddamn hot like this, oh my god.”

“So are you,” Bobbi says. “The both of you all spread out, all flushed and needy, it’s so gorgeous.”

Skye moans and digs her fingernails into Bobbi’s skin. “Thanks,” she gasps. “Honey, h-how are you doing?”

Jemma’s noise comes out sounding almost startled, like she wasn’t expecting to be asked just now. The truth is, knowing all this is going on right before her is outrageously hot, even if she can’t see any of it.

“What’s that, honey?” Bobbi teases, reaching to brush a hand over Jemma’s cheek.

Jemma whines, sounding mostly conflicted.

“Don’t worry,” Skye murmurs, “your turn’s next.”

“How about you put your hands on her,” Bobbi suggests. “Let her feel a little more involved.”

“Okay,” gasps Skye, letting go of Bobbi and letting her arms flop to Jemma’s legs, grabbing hold there. “How’s that?”

Jemma nods, whimpering her assent, and Bobbi says, “Perfect.”

“More?” Skye asks. “Please, Bobbi?”

“Of course,” Bobbi hums, going harder and faster yet. Mostly she seems to be concentrating on getting Skye off, slamming her hips into Skye’s, drawing patterns on Skye’s skin.

Skye whimpers, digging her fingers into Jemma’s skin, and Jemma hums loudly.

“Come on, sugar,” Bobbi purrs, giving Skye a look like she’s daring her to glance away.

And normally Skye would take her up on that dare, but she’s too busy falling apart at the moment. “ _Fuck,_ ” she hisses, drawing the word out.

“Yeah,” Bobbi whispers, grinning wickedly. “God, that’s gorgeous, that’s so gorgeous.” So gorgeous, in fact, that she’s going to draw it out as long as she can, not stopping the steady rhythm of her hips.

“Oh my god,” gasps Skye. She’s gone a little boneless, flopping against Jemma once she’s stopped shaking.

“Good girl,” Bobbi says, utterly smug. “You’re so hot. Honey,” she says, raising her voice just a little bit to get Jemma’s attention (Jemma looks about as relaxed as if she’d just come down from orgasm too). “Honey, you’re so lucky. Your girl is incredible, and she looks so good just lying there using you as a pillow.”

Jemma squeaks in response, sounding almost startled by the sudden attention.

“Yeah,” Bobbi says. “Yeah, this is awesome.”

Skye tries to laugh, but it comes out as more of a huff than anything. “Hell yeah. Goddamn, Bobbi, you’re incredible.”

“I know,” Bobbi replies, tossing her hair.

“Can I, um…”Skye grins lazily. “Thank you? With my mouth?”

Bobbi’s eyebrow goes up. “What do you think, honey?’ she asks Jemma.

Jemma nods very fervently.

“Okay,” Bobbi says. “I think we could do that.”

“Awesome. Lemme just stretch out between Jemma’s legs…” Bobbi climbs off and removes the harness while Skye spreads out fully on her back. “And then…” Skye crooks her fingers and smirks.

“I do so like your style,” Bobbi chuckles, moving to kneel over Skye’s face. This time, it’s hers to hold onto Jemma’s legs, and she realizes accordingly that Jemma is starting to shake, so just in case it’s more than just intense arousal she pets her skin soothingly, murmuring, “Such a good girl.”

Skye, meanwhile, runs her tongue down Bobbi’s center experimentally.

“You can go harder than that,” Bobbi goads.

Humming acknowledgment, Skye repeats the action several times, putting more pressure with her tongue. At this point she’s just having fun and seeing what Bobbi likes.

Bobbi rolls her hips. “Yeah, keep going,” she suggests, digging fingernails into Jemma’s thighs.

Skye flicks her tongue over Bobbi’s clit, then dips it inside her, going back and forth for a minute or two. It’s been awhile since she’s eaten out anyone but Jemma, so having to figure it all out again is kind of fun.

This makes Bobbi moan, more like she’s going to luxuriate in this moment than like she’s already on the edge, and that in turn makes Jemma make a funny noise, gasping in air around her gag.

Chuckling, Skye pauses long enough to comment, “You sound like you’re having just as good a time as she’s having, honey.”

Jemma whimpers, then shrugs, then halfway whines. She’s having a damn good time, is what all of that sort of means.

“Don’t stall,” Bobbi chides, playful but firm.

Skye rolls her eyes and slides her tongue into Bobbi again, starting to thrust it in and out a little to see what she’ll do.

What she does is lean into it, grinding down against Skye’s mouth. “Keep going,” she hisses.

So Skye does, reaching up to grab at Bobbi’s hips. She moans a little herself, because it’s fun to watch Bobbi react like this, and she tastes really good.

Bobbi arches her back, chuckling throatily. “So good, you’re so good,” she murmurs, and if Skye were to look up just now she’d see Bobbi’s eyes closed in ecstasy.

Skye wants more than anything to say “I know,” but it would interrupt this, and she’s enjoying being in control for the moment. So she just keeps at it, going back to Bobbi’s clit occasionally.

This isn’t even very much control, as far as Bobbi’s concerned, but it’s still more than she’d let someone else have over her. She doesn’t mind, though, and that’s largely because Skye is making her feel fucking incredible.

Judging by the noises Bobbi’s making and the way she’s moving, she’s probably getting close, so Skye keeps working at her. She wants to make sure this is fucking _spectacular._

And when it does happen, it is, at least judging by the way Bobbi screams loudly enough that she claps a hand over her own mouth.

Skye laps at her until she’s sure Bobbi’s done, but once she is she murmurs, “I guess Jem’s not the only one we need to worry about, huh?”

“Shut up,” Bobbi snaps. “That was an exception and also a compliment.”

“Well, thanks very much then,” says Skye, kissing her clit lightly before nudging her off.

“I see how it is,” Bobbi teases.

“Oh, no, I just mean, it’s honey’s turn,” says Skye, moving from between Jemma’s legs.

Bobbi could have figured that, but it still makes her laugh. “Do you want it the same way?” she asks Jemma, even though she can figure that out too.

Jemma nods, but at the same time she whines ambivalently, trusting Skye will elaborate for her.

“We’ve never done this before,” explains Skye. “I don’t think she ever has, actually.”

Jemma nods again. It’s not something she’s embarrassed of, her lack of experience with penetration, and it’s somewhat backed up by the fact that it’s public record that she’s never done penis sex things, but it’s still cause for apprehension. No matter how much she trusts Bobbi and Skye.

“Okay,” Bobbi says contemplatively. “Then I’m going to take this off so you can watch me.” She moves for Jemma’s blindfold, then slips her own harness back on and tends to the condom and lube. “And remember, tap out if you need to.”

That makes Jemma almost laugh, and the fact that Bobbi and Skye both look wholly fucked out makes her laugh even more, and the fact that she’s laughing makes her feel more comfortable, so it works out, really.

“We can work up to leaving the blindfold on,” Bobbi shrugs, gently thrusting into Jemma, making direct eye contact. “But right now, I want you to be able to look.”

“Goddamn,” says Skye. She’s aware that’s not really a very helpful comment, but...well. What else is she supposed to say?

Jemma makes a noise that’s probably a “thank you” and tries to move forward, which doesn’t really work, She just really wants to be able to properly touch either one of them, and the way she tugs forward prove it.

“Pretty girl,” Bobbi whispers, leaning to kiss Jemma and tug on her bottom lip mischievously.

Skye grins and makes eye contact with Jemma. “So pretty. Having fun, honey?”

Jemma whimpers a yes, nodding, and her gaze flicks over to Bobbi and down her body before returning to Skye. How couldn’t she be having fun?

“Good,” says Skye. “How about you, Bobbi?”

“So much fun,” Bobbi agrees, and she picks up her speed, watching Jemma for reactions. “Thank you for trusting me so much with something so big, honey. That’s sweet of you.”

Honestly, this wasn’t something Jemma had even consciously thought about wanting before tonight, so the main reasons she wants it are that Bobbi is incredibly hot and it makes Skye happy, but it’s also starting to feel really nice, nice enough that she’s tugging on the scarves trying to lean forward into Bobbi as best as she can.

“How’s that feel?” Skye asks playfully. “You seem pretty into it.”

Jemma scrunches up her nose, but it was a proper question and a simple answer (an attempted “it’s nice, I am”) can’t be too messy, can it?

It makes Skye giggle a little. “You sound so cute,” she says. “Doesn’t she sound cute, Bobbi?”

Bobbi raises an eyebrow, but she nods. “Definitely,” she says, brushing a hand along Jemma’s jaw. “This really suits her.”

_I like it_ , Jemma thinks, but all that comes out is a contented little “ah” sound, not exactly aimed at either of the others given the way her head is drooping.

“Could be noisier, though,” teases Skye. “I mean, since we’ve taken care of making sure Fitz won’t hear it.”

As if to test this theory, Bobbi thrusts deeper and faster into Jemma and Jemma moans, her eyes half-closing and half-rolling back in her head. “I think she took that as a dare,” Bobbi chuckles.

“Hey, I’m fine with that,” says Skye, grinning. ‘You guys are so hot.”

That makes Jemma preen, or at least she does until she notices Bobbi is preening too, enough to have paused, and has to shift her hips as an encouragement to keep it going. _I wanna be_ , she thinks, looking at Skye, but what comes out is a slightly nasal whine, going from an “ah” to an “ee” in no time flat.

Skye hums and reaches out to pet Jemma’s side. “Good girl,” she murmurs.

Jemma sighs happily.

“I should stop teasing, huh,” Bobbi murmurs. ‘Let honey finish off spectacularly.”

“I wouldn’t object to that,” agrees Skye. “I don’t think she would either.”

“I get that feeling somehow,” Bobbi teases, nodding at Jemma and then concentrating until she lets out another spectacular moan. “Would I be right in assuming I found your g-spot, honey?”

Jemma whines in agreement.

“Good,” Bobbi hums. “I wanna make you feel so nice. You’re such a sweet princess-general.”

Jemma’s shoulders roll, she shifts her hips.

“God,” breathes Skye, “that’s gorgeous.”

“I know I am,” Bobbi purrs. “Sugar, kiss her tits or something. That worked.”

“Ooh, okay.” Skye slides over to press kisses to Jemma’s breast. “‘s nice,” she murmurs before moving to the other one.

Sure enough, the combination of Bobbi filling her up and Skye about attacking her with kisses sends Jemma over the edge, and she’s so lost coming down from it that she doesn’t even notice Bobbi pull the toy out of her and switch to gentle, almost soothing strokes with her fingers, like she’s bringing her back down easy.

“C’mon, honey,” Bobbi coos. “Good girl.”

Skye joins in, petting Jemma everywhere she can reach. “So pretty.”

Jemma keeps on sighing, letting out these high-pitched little squeaks like she’s overwhelmed in the very best way, and Bobbi finally stops and just presses the palm of her hand against Jemma’s flesh. “You’re good, honey, we’ve got you,” she murmurs.

“Yup,” Skye promises. “You’re such a good girl.”

Even as hazy as she is, Jemma thinks, _I wanna be_ , and the nearest approximation of that that she can manage slips out.

“You’re too cute,” Bobbi says plainly, lifting Jemma’s chin to meet her eyes. “It’s sort of unfair how cute you are.”

Jemma giggles some semblance of an apology.

Skye rolls her eyes in Bobbi’s direction. “You’re ridiculous,” she says, meaning Bobbi.

“Tell me I’m wrong, though,’ Bobbi demands.

“I mean, you’re not,” agrees Skye. “She is fucking adorable.”

Jemma hums happily, clearly delighted.

“So, what were you thinking next?” Skye asks. “I mean, if Jem wants, she can thank you the same way I did…”

Jemma perks right up, nodding eagerly, but after a moment (she’s getting clearer as she goes) she mumbles something about thanking both of them and trusts that at least Skye will decipher it. That’s usually their routine, so it’s not a big jump.

“I think she wants,” Bobbi says playfully, raising an eyebrow at Skye like she’s asking for a confirmation.

“Yeah, I think she wants to thank us both,” replies Skye, grinning. “But you can go first.”

“Gosh,” Bobbi says, exaggerating her expression. “Why don’t you get her down from there, get her re-situated comfortably, and we can give that a go.”

“All right.” Skye leans over to undo Jemma’s wrists from the headboard, petting her as she goes. “Ready to take this out, honey?” she asks, running her hand over one of the straps on the gag.

Jemma nods, her eyes cartoonishly wide.

Gently, Skye removes the gag and sets it aside. “Hey,” she murmurs. “Doing okay?”

“So okay,” Jemma whispers, beaming as she leans forward to kiss Skye passionately, then pulls away to tilt her head at Bobbi. Of course, Bobbi takes the hint, moving in to let Jemma kiss her with an indulgent sort of smile.

“That’s a nice view,” says Skye with a smirk.

“I can imagine,” Bobbi replies casually, stroking Jemma’s hair when Jemma whines at the pause in their kissing and then chiding, “Impatient, impatient.”

“Just know what I like,” Jemma shrugs, because her sentences are almost never complete at this point in the night.

“I think we all know what you like,” Skye teases.

“And I would hope that we all know that you, sugar, are stalling,” Bobbi replies archly. “Get her comfortable.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Skye says, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly, and she nudges Jemma onto her back.

“Can I do like you did?” Jemma asks softly, because no more accurate description of Bobbi sitting on either of their faces is wanting to be said.

“I was counting on that,” Bobbi interjects, smiling.

“Comfortable?” Skye asks her.

“Mm-hmm, I am, thank you,” Jemma says.

“Okay, have at it, Bobbi.”

Bobbi, sans harness, scoots to kneel over Jemma’s face, strokes down Jemma’s re-tied arms. “The bit about beautiful friendships beginning except this is more of a beautiful new dimension of a friendship,” she quips.

Skye snorts. “Or something like that, anyway. Nerd.”

“You like it, don’t even pretend,” Bobbi scoffs.

“Yeah, I do,” says Skye with a shrug. “I also like fingering. Which I think you should do after Jemma finishes with both of us.”


	15. we’re flying over mountains higher every day, I’m trying to keep up, trying to match your game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their New Year's Eve dinner out, Maya and Maria go to Maria's and have their own private fun.

“So I’m assuming we’re going back to my place,” says Maria with a smirk. “Since I doubt you want to have to deal with nosy neighbors.”

“We’d probably better,” Maya says, making a face. “I swear when the school year is over I’m getting an actual grown-up non-campus-sponsored place. But right now, yeah. Thank you.”

“It’s fine, I remember those days.” Maria chuckles. “It happens. Just makes sex a little harder.”

Maya has had enough to drink that that makes her snort.

“You’re ridiculous,” says Maria fondly.

“Yeah, but you like it,” Maya retorts.

They stroll back toward Maria’s place, holding hands, and after a little while Maria says, “I didn’t expect to have anybody to spend New Year’s Eve with, so thanks for that.”

“Well, I’m happy to be your go-to for holidays,” Maya replies. “It beats the hell out of spending it alone, or out of going to look for a sad one night stand.”

“I should hope you won’t have the need to do that anymore,” says Maria playfully. “That would mean I’m slacking.”

“You’re not slacking,” Maya promises. “You’re also miles better than any one night stands, sad or otherwise, that I’ve racked up in years past.”

Maria preens a bit. “Flatterer. You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Not so bad,” Maya repeats. “Sounds like I still have work to do.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t object.” Maria grins. “You’re more fun in bed than I’ve had before.”

Maya raises an eyebrow. “Glad to hear it,” she says. “That’s sort of what I’m going for. Or, not specifically more than you’ve had before, but a general fun.”

“Well, you’re doing pretty well, Hansen. No complaints here.” Maria gives Maya’s hand a squeeze.

“Another stellar review,” Maya teases.

“I mean, considering some of the people I’ve slept with in the past, that’s stellar,” says Maria, rolling her eyes. “Let’s just say it was reassuring knowing you’d already dated and slept with girls.”

“Well, everyone’s gotta start somewhere,” Maya shrugs, “but I get what you mean, yeah.”

“I know, but not having to teach you the very basics of eating me out? Priceless.”

“And I’d like to think I’m learning the little tricks pretty fast, too,” Maya says smugly.

Maria hums and replies, “Yeah, you’re doing pretty damn well, I gotta say.”

“Likewise,” Maya agrees. “You know what the worst thing in the world is? Sleeping with guys and trying to get good oral out of it.”

“Oh jesus, I can imagine,” groans Maria. “I mean, I haven’t even tried a guy since high school and at that point I didn’t know shit. I wouldn’t have known how to ask for oral.”

“Well, most of them have to be asked, in my experience, and only some of the ones you ask are even going to agree to it,” Maya sighs. “I’m sure there are some guys who are decent at it, I just don’t know them. Nor do I need to.”

“Nope,” says Maria smugly. “Because I’m damn good, if I do say so myself.”

“You should,” Maya agrees. “And speaking of…”

Maria glances at her apartment building, which is within sight. “I see how it is,” she teases. “Feeling bossy?”

“I’m actually feeling very generous, but I’m also feeling very horny,” Maya says bluntly.

“Ooh. Alright, we can fix that.” Maria leads her in the direction of the front door. “What were you thinking?”

“I’m open to suggestions,” Maya chirps.

“Well,” purrs Maria, “do you still have that thing Raina got you in your purse?”

“Oh, the necklace-that-isn’t?” Maya asks, clarifying. “Yeah, I think so.”

Maria snorts. “Yeah, that. What say we test that out?”

“That sounds fascinating,” Maya says. “I mean, more so depending on how you wanna play it, but I’m definitely listening.”

“Cool. I was reading some reviews online, because I got curious, and they were saying that it’s pretty powerful for what it is. What I’m wondering is,” Maria drops her voice, “whether it’s better than _me._ ”

“Well, clearly the only way to find that out is to experiment,” Maya muses.

“I’m up for experimenting if you are.”

“You’re talking to the girl who’s possibly the biggest science nerd slash sex toy enthusiast,” Maya points out. “I’m in.”

“You’re adorable,” murmurs Maria, pulling her in for a kiss.

Maya hums against Maria’s lips. “I like when you give compliments that nobody would ever imagine you saying.”

“Yeah, you’re special that way,” jokes Maria, opening the front door and heading for the elevator.

“Thank you,” Maya says. “That’s really nice to hear. Y’know.”

“Well, I mean it.” Once they’re on the elevator and the door’s closed, Maria leans in to kiss her again.

“God,” Maya murmurs, tugging Maria closer. “You’re so…”

“What?” teases Maria. “So, what?”

“So exactly what I hoped,” Maya declares.

Maria huffs a laugh. “You’re sweet. I’m not used to people _hoping_ things about me.”

“Well, I did,” Maya says. “Kinda thought I’d never get to find out, so this is a nice surprise. Still.”

“Adorable,” Maria repeats, leading her out of the elevator once the doors open and down the hall to her apartment. “Lemme just find my keys and…”

“Then we’ll get straight to it?” Maya asks, smirking.

Snorting, Maria nods. “Something like that.”

Once they’re inside, she adds, “So what I was thinking is, I’d go first, then the vibe, and we’ll time it both times. Although I guess we’ll have to take a break in between to let you come down all the way.”

“I like that idea,” Maya says. “Would it be too much to let me return the favor between rounds?”

“No, I think I’d like that,” says Maria with a smirk.

“Perfect.” Maya drops her bag on the counter and nods. “This is your experiment, you direct it how you like.”

“Hell, you’re the scientist. I just went to cop school.” Maria hesitates. “You need anything?”

“I could go for getting out of these fancy dinner clothes,” Maya admits.

Maria laughs. “Well, of course. C’mon.” She leads Maya towards her bedroom. “I can help with that, I think.”

“Thanks,” Maya smirks. “Should I just kick my shoes off?”

“Yeah, if you want. It’s not a big deal where they end up.” Maria shrugs off her jacket. “Where should I start?”

“At the very beginning,” Maya teases. “I dunno, it’s not like you can get my bra off before you get my sweater off.”

“You doubt my abilities,” replies Maria playfully, but she pulls Maya’s sweater off first as directed.

“No, I just know how clothing works,” Maya says, shrugging. “But you’re free to remove what you like as you like.”

“Alright,” murmurs Maria, kissing her as she reaches for the zipper on Maya’s dress.

“I plan on undressing you, too,” Maya points out. “Although I do enjoy when you get all androgynous-formal.”

That makes Maria grin. “Glad you like it. I was never any good at anything else, clothes-wise.”

“I think it’s cute,” Maya says. “I bet you’d look hot in a tux.”

Maria preens. “A couple of my exes certainly seemed to think so. Ended up wearing one a couple times to events for work and such - a tux, not my ex, although.” She grins for a second before continuing, “I wouldn’t mind putting one on for you sometime.”

“I’d be into that,” Maya declares. “I’d wanna return the favor somehow, but I’d be into it.”

Shrugging, Maria replies, “You’re cute anyway, but you’re cute when you get all glammed up.”

“We should make a night of it,” Maya suggests. “I’m not sure… how, exactly, but we could.”

“We’d figure something out,” agrees Maria. “Sounds fun.” As she’s been talking, she’s worked on unhooking Maya’s bra and tosses it aside. “You wanna get the leggings yourself, or let me?”

“I could let you,” Maya muses.

“Sounds good. Better sit on the bed though, I feel like that’ll go better.”

Maya giggles, moving to do so. “I dunno, either way it’s going to end with you on your knees for a second, that’s always hot,” she says.

“Oh, you like that?” Maria asks, raising an eyebrow as she eases Maya’s leggings off. “I might be able to do something about that later, if you want.”

“Yeah, I do,” Maya says. “You’re gorgeous all the time, but especially like that.”

Maria shivers. “Goddamn, but I like hearing that.”

“Glad to oblige,” Maya grins. “You’re gorgeous. And at this exact moment, you’re overdressed.”

“Good point. You wanna help out with that or should I give you a show?”

“Ooh, tough call,” Maya says. “I vote… show. This time.”

“Alright, can do.” Maria’s down to her blouse and pants after taking off her jacket, but she still takes her time unbuttoning the blouse and sliding it over her head.

Maya leans back, smirking. “Not bad,” she says. “Not bad at all.”

“Glad you think so,” replies Maria with an affectionate snort, unzipping her pants and easing them down. The lingerie she’s wearing isn’t exactly girly, but it is on the skimpier side.

Before she can think any better of it, Maya gives a thumbs-up.

Maria laughs. “Did you just give me a thumbs-up while I’m doing a striptease for you?”

“I might have,” Maya mumbles. “Wine. I blame wine.”

“Ridiculous,” says Maria affectionately. “But in a cute way.” She strikes what she thinks might be a pose. “You want me to finish with you first, or myself?”

“Yourself,” Maya says, sounding like it’s a dare.

“Alright,” says Maria, undoing her bra in what is probably a sexy way (hell, she doesn’t know, she hasn’t been to a strip club in years).

Whatever it is, though, it works for Maya, who leans back on her elbows and nods approvingly. “God, I’m lucky,” she says.

“I’m feeling pretty lucky myself,” replies Maria, giving Maya an approving once-over before tugging off her panties.

“Get over here,” Maya begs, nodding to the bed.

“Sure thing,” purrs Maria, coming to lean over Maya and kiss her passionately.

Maya doesn’t even bother playing shy, she tugs Maria on top of her and wraps a leg around her waist to hold her there. “You’re so hot,” she whispers between kisses.

Maria runs her hands down Maya’s sides. “Not so bad yourself,” she murmurs. “Might be a little overdressed though.”

“Wanna fix that?” Maya asks breathily.

“Gladly.” Maria reaches to unhook Maya’s bra and, once it’s off, she presses kisses across Maya’s breasts.

“God,” Maya groans. “That’s. So.”

“Good?” Maria asks, hooking her thumbs under Maya’s panties.

“So good,” Maya agrees, rolling her hips up.

“Want these off?”

“I do,” Maya says. “A lot.”

But first, Maria leans in to playfully kiss Maya through her panties.

“Yeah,” Maya hums. “Yeah, please, yeah.”

“I could just keep going like this,” says Maria with a smirk. “That might be fun.”

“But that would change the parameters of your experiment,” Maya whispers, sounding vaguely startled.

“Well, we can’t have that,” says Maria, sliding them off. “Another time, maybe. If you want.”

“I… yeah, might be fun,” Maya breathes, now trying to sound less excited than she is.

Maria nuzzles her stomach, kissing there once before sliding up to kiss her lips again. “Grab my phone off the bedside table, will you? I need to start the stopwatch.”

“Not a phrase everyone gets to hear during sex,” Maya says, huffing out a laugh, but she hands over the phone.

“Well, I’ve never used it, but this is a special occasion,” teases Maria, opening the appropriate app. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Maya echoes. “Give it all you’ve got.”

So Maria taps the go button and then slips down to suck Maya’s clit into her mouth.

And at first all Maya does is whine, one hand slamming against the mattress. “God.”

That makes Maria hum in satisfaction and dip her tongue inside Maya. Normally she’d tease her a little more, work her up slowly, but tonight’s different.

It is, and Maya notices that. “Yeah, that’s nice,” she manages to groan.

Maria swirls her tongue around for a bit and then moves back up to lap at Maya’s clit. She was clearly enjoying Maria’s striptease, and Maria can’t help but moan a little at the taste.

“God, yeah,” Maya murmurs, already feeling a little incoherent. “Please?”

Making a little noise of acknowledgement, Maria just keeps going. She can tell from how Maya’s squirming around and making little noises that she’s close, so she continues to work at her until Maya shrieks and shudders underneath her. Maria doesn’t reach for the timer until she can tell Maya’s done, and then she brings her down gently.

“Good?” she asks with a smirk.

“So goddamn good,” Maya pants, idly reaching for Maria’s shoulder to hold onto.

Maria comes up to kiss her, then glances at her phone. “Eleven minutes, forty-two seconds,” she says. “Not too shabby.”

“That felt like the longest eleven minutes, forty-two seconds of my life,” Maya says. “In a good way, though.”

“I think I’m flattered,” replies Maria, running a hand through Maya’s hair.

“Should be,” Maya smiles. “Not that I have any conclusive way of proving this, since I’ve never timed anyone else, but I’m pretty sure you get me off more efficiently than anyone else ever has.”

“Not that I don’t like drawing it out, but I guess that has its perks.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s another thing,” Maya points out. “You _can_ draw it out and I’m into it, too. No matter what you’re doing I’m into it.”

Maria smirks. “Well, gosh,” she says with exaggerated modesty. “I do my best.”

“I appreciate it,” Maya says. “And if you’re not opposed I’d like to show you how much.”

“I’m really not,” says Maria with a grin. “How would you like me?”

It takes a bit of effort, but Maya leverages her body so she can flip the both of them over and pin Maria against the bed. “This will do nicely,” she says, grinning.

Maria makes an _oof_ noise when she lands against the bed, but it’s more from surprise than anything. “Alright,” she says with a smirk. “Have at it, Hansen.”

“I never thought my last name could sound sexy,” Maya giggles, moving down to nuzzle against Maria’s thigh for a moment.

“Well, I’m full of surprises.”

“That’s definitely true,” Maya murmurs, and she presses a kiss to Maria’s clit, glancing up to meet her eyes.

Maria hums, glancing down at Maya. “Nice view.”

“Thank you,” Maya says, moving kisses up over Maria’s hipbones for a moment.

“Ooh, that’s nice.” Maria squirms a little.

“Good. I wanna make you feel as good as I do right now.” And Maya starts kissing back down.

Maria sighs. “You’re really good at it.”

“Thank you,” Maya says again, and she turns her attention back to Maria’s clit.

Maria whimpers. “Thanks yourself.”

Maya focuses for a few minutes, just kissing and sucking and gently rubbing Maria’s thighs as she goes, and she has to think once again how damn lucky she is, how against all odds she gets to be the one doing this. It’s sort of overwhelming.

“Goddamn,” breathes Maria. “You’re...god _damn_.”

“I’m what?” Maya teases, with the most shit-eating grin.

“Amazing,” Maria slurs.

“Good,” Maya says, beaming, and she slides her tongue into Maria almost curiously.

That makes Maria buck her hips eagerly and whine.

And that, in turn, makes Maya giggle, exploring and humming delightedly.

“Taking your sweet time,” huffs Maria with a laugh.

“Enjoying myself,” Maya corrects smugly.

“Well, good,” Maria murmurs. “I certainly am.”

“I like that so much,” Maya murmurs, and not for the first time she’s glad that Maria doesn’t mind her stupid chattering.

“Yeah,” whispers Maria. “More?”

“Of course,” Maya nods. “Tell me when you’ve had enough, okay?” And she goes in for the metaphorical kill, trying out all of the little tricks she’s learned.

After just a couple minutes of that, Maria’s body tenses and she sighs loudly. She’s never been one for a dramatic orgasm, but somewhere along the way she figured out that her partners like it better when she reacts at least a little.

Sure enough, Maya’s grinning when she pushes herself up a bit. “You’re incredible,” she says.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one saying that at this point,” replies Maria with her own lazy grin.

“I wouldn’t mind hearing it,” Maya chuckles, “but I also just really love watching you.”

“You’re sweet.” Maria reaches up to stroke down Maya’s back.

“Another thing I never really banked on hearing,” Maya admits, and she maneuvers so she’s essentially spooning Maria.

Maria nestles against her. “Surprise,” she says. “I’m not the type to say it often, so.”

“I know you’re not,” Maya points out. “That’s kind of part of the charm.”

“Mmm, thanks. You ready for round two, or need a few minutes?”

“I’m ready, and besides, getting you off was akin to me watching you strip, in that it got me aroused, so it’s fair,” Maya smirks.

“Alright. You got the vibrator?”

“Just a second,” Maya says, and she rolls off the bed and runs into the other room to grab her purse. “I guess it’s a good thing I never got around to taking it out, huh?”

“Apparently.” Maria waits for her to come back before she adds, “Although I confess I’m thinking about...creative...uses for it, if you kept it in your purse.”

“Like?”

“Well, I know for a fact that your dressing rooms get used for unorthodox purposes.”

“Oh, you do,” Maya hums, settling back against the bed. “Says who?”

“Says Darcy Lewis, and also suspicious security cam footage.” Maria smirks. “I’m not saying we should make a habit of it, but it might be fun.”

Maya snorts. “I’m not surprised and I’m more open to the idea than I might have been otherwise.”

“Good to know.” Maria holds out her hand for the vibrator. “How do you work this, anyway?”

“One button, three speeds,” Maya says, indicating said button. “For the sake of science I’d recommend keeping it on one of said speeds, but that’s your call.”

“Alright,” says Maria, holding the button down until it starts to buzz faintly. “You ready?”

“Sure am,” Maya says.

Maria turns on the stopwatch and then starts to run the vibrator over Maya’s folds. This is a little different than they’ve done before, so she’s trying a new approach.

“That’s not half bad,” Maya murmurs appreciatively. It’s stronger than it looks.

Humming thoughtfully, Maria starts circling Maya’s clit with the tip. “Going for a little more than that,” she says with a grin.

“Give it a second,” Maya counters, breath hitching.

“Ooh, seems like that’s doing something.”

“Yeah,” Maya admits, “that’s pretty awesome.”

“Good.” Maria lazily slides the vibe down across Maya’s labia again. “And this?”

“Pretty nice,” Maya agrees. “It’s gonna do more on my clit, but it feels good everywhere.”

“Noted,” says Maria, moving it back up to her clit. “Want me to go up a speed or anything?”

Maya shakes her head. “Just this for now, is nice. Yeah.”

“Okay.” Maria reaches up to idly stroke Maya’s skin. “I love watching you like this.”

“How’s that?” Maya asks, because she doesn’t mind compliments.

“Enjoying yourself. It’s sexy.”

“I’d say I try, but right now that’s kind of a lie,” Maya declares. “I’m pretty sure this is me at my most - _oh!_ \- genuine.”

Maria chuckles. “I know, and I like it.” She rests the tip of the vibe against Maya’s clit.

“Not that I’m not always genuine with you,” Maya muses. “But - _god_ that’s…”

“Yeah?” teases Maria.

“Yeah,” Maya agrees. “It’s really nice.”

“Want more?”

“Yeah,” Maya repeats. “That sounds really…”  She sighs loudly. “Really good.”

“Okay.” Maria clicks up to the next setting and moves it in a circle again. “How’s that?”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Maya breathes.

“Glad it’s working so well for you,” says Maria smugly.

“It is,” Maya says. “And I like having all your attention on me.”

“Mmm, well, I like giving it to you.” Maria runs her other hand down Maya’s side.

And after a while longer of that, Maria clicks up to the highest setting without warning Maya, and she shrieks and flops back against the bed. “ _Holy shit_ ,” she pants.

“Well, seems like this works pretty well,” says Maria, clicking the stop watch. “Twelve minutes, fifty-seven seconds.”

“Damn,” Maya says, “that’s not bad at all. But you’re still better.”

“Well, thanks,” Maria nuzzles Maya’s stomach. “I mean, I assumed, but it’s nice to have confirmation. Nice little gadget though, might be fun sometimes.”

“Yeah.” Maya reaches to stroke Maria’s hair. “Since you won, what do you want for a prize?”

Maria thinks a moment. “Honestly, that kind of looked like fun, you wanna try it on me?”

“Yes!” Maya exclaims, her eyes lighting up. “We could even repeat the experiment. Although…”

“Although what?”

“I didn’t time _you_ the first time, I’d have to repeat that part,” Maya hums, and she doesn’t sound at all bothered by this.

Maria smirks. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“I don’t think so either,” Maya says. “Just give me a few more minutes to get my wits about me.”

“Sure,” says Maria, nodding and reaching to pet Maya’s hair. “Take your time. This is nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The vibrator in question is the [Vesper Crave](http://www.lovecrave.com/vibrators/vesper/features), and judging by reviews, it's pretty decent for what it is.


	16. I’m not pushing hard, nor hanging, just silently falling into place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team America discovers that Sharon used to work in a library and find that both hilarious and sexy; tongue-in-cheek roleplay ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alluded to in [we'd move from the shadows on the wall and stand in the center of it all.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/13538416)
> 
> So the entire point of this chapter is librarian/student roleplay. They're supposed to be in college, but they do make a thing out of the power dynamic and if that's going to bother you, please feel free to nope out.
> 
> Also the only actually smutty part is with Tasha and Sharon, because we aren't good at porn with boys in it.

“I still can’t believe you actually _bought_ your college yearbook,” teases Natasha, reaching over Steve to flip another page.

“I had friends on yearbook,” Sharon exclaims. “It’s not _that_ weird.”

“No, but it is pretty funny,” Sam agrees. “You were so _normal._ ”

“Were?” Sharon echoes, mock-offended.

Bucky snickers. “Honestly, are. Compared to the rest of us especially.”

“Well, I put a little more effort into pretending to be, anyway,” Sharon smirks. “But I mean, all kidding aside, college was fun. I don’t mind remembering it.”

“You’re cute,” hums Natasha, turning to give Sharon a kiss on the cheek.

“Aw, look,” Steve murmurs, turning the page. “Librarian Sharon.”

“I thank my parents every day that they didn’t give me a name that would actually scan out to match the word ‘librarian,’” Sharon teases.

“Ooh, lemme see.” Natasha can’t help but laugh. “Aw, you were so cute! Cardigan and glasses and all.”

“Kind of looks like a porn librarian,” Bucky offers. “I mean, a stereotypical one.”

Sam and Natasha burst into guffaws at the same time.

“I did not!” Sharon exclaims. “The porn thing. I mean, my sweater is buttoned up and… and hey, stop laughing!”

“You kind of do,” Steve says, bracing himself for a gentle smack. “In a cute way.”

“ _Adorable_ ,” agrees Natasha, wiping tears from her eyes. “It’s a compliment, promise!”

“Sorry,” says Bucky with a shit-eating grin.

“See if I let you guys look at any of my stuff again,” Sharon sulks.

Sam leans over to snuggle her from behind. “We mean it in the best way!”

“Actually, that might be fun,” muses Natasha, mostly over her giggles. “Schoolgirl and schoolboys and librarian, I mean.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Sharon exclaims.

Natasha shrugs. “Not that our sex lives are boring, but it’d be something different. A bit of roleplay.”

“I already have an outfit that would work,” says Bucky.

“Oh my god,” Sharon says, “are we really discussing this?”

“Well, not if you’re seriously opposed to it,” Steve says, a bit doubtfully.

Sam nods. “We’ve all gotta be on board with it.”

“Well, I mean,” Sharon stammers. “What… would it… be?”

Bucky shrugs. “Whatever we want. Porn tends not to have intricate plots,” he adds with a grin.

“I think it’d be fun if you had to discipline us,” says Natasha. “But only what you’re comfortable with.”

“Discipline you?” Sharon repeats, dumbfounded.

“Y’know, we were too loud, we made a mess in the library, whatever.” Natasha smirks. “So Ms. Carter has to come and put us in library detention.”

“I really, really promise you, there is no such thing as library detention,” Sharon insists.

“But there _could_ be!” Bucky points out.

“In what world?!” Sharon yelps.

“Porn world,” Steve replies solemnly.

 

* * *

 

“I have never worn shoes with heels this high in my entire life, let alone at the library,” Sharon mutters, glancing down at her feet with some distaste.

“What was that, Ms. Carter?” Bucky asks, fiddling with one of his suspender straps. He sounds artificially innocent, but what he means is _c’mon Sharon get into character._

“Oh, nothing,” Sharon sighs. She gets the message, and she knows it’s not unwarranted. She did agree to this, after all. “All right, kids. I hope you’re all ready to behave yourselves. In library detention.”

Natasha winds a lock of hair around her finger. “I just don’t understand what we did wrong, Ms. Carter.” She uncrosses her legs, as if to showcase that she’s not wearing panties under her very short skirt.

Sharon has to work very hard to keep from facepalming. “Well,” she says hesitantly, because it’s not like they actually discussed _why_ this implausible scenario was taking place, “you were… being very loud.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam asks with a grin. “Doing what? We wanna be sure not to do it again.”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Sharon says, trying for supercilious. “It was simply… inappropriate behavior. For a library.”

“But how will we know if you don’t tell us?” Steve asks sweetly, actually batting his eyelashes.

“We just want to be good boys and girls,” says Bucky plaintively.

“Just… just be quiet, when you’re told,” Sharon exclaims. “And don’t… um. Make a mess. There were, there were _things_ all over the floor.”

“Things?” Natasha has produced a pen out of apparently thin air and is practically fellating it. “What sorts of things, ma’am?”

“ _Toys_ ,” Sharon declares, folding her arms (and in the process fluffing her tits up a bit). “That are _not meant_ for someone your age!”

“Sorry, Miss Carter,” says Sam, grinning. “We just got...excited.”

“You should have been excited about your homework!” Sharon says, almost sounding panicked. “If, if your teachers knew that I let you… come… to the library just to play, they’d… they’d cut off my funding for sure!”

Bucky frowns. “Gosh, Ms. Carter, we’re sorry. Is there anything we can do for you to make up for it?”

Sharon is definitely starting to freak out at this point, so the first thing out of her mouth is, “You could clean up the mess you made!” There, of course, is no such mess, given that they’re currently in her living room and she keeps a relatively clean house, and also given that contrary to what she implied they in fact did not dump Bucky’s dildo collection on the floor nearby.

“I guess we could,” Steve says hesitantly, kind of hoping one of the others will run with it.

“Or,” purrs Natasha, standing up and cocking her hip, “we could get it even _dirtier._ ”

“I know you could, but I don’t know why you would want to, since it’s exactly what I told you not to do,” Sharon yelps.

Sam bows his head in excessive humility (he’s still grinning). “We’re sorry, we’re trying to be good. Maybe if you gave us more orders?”

The first thing that comes to Sharon’s mind is, “Sit up straight.” The next thing that comes to her mind is, even more inexplicably, “Take out your slates.” They do not, in fact, have slates, or anything resembling slates. She also has no idea why she said slates. They’re not playing 19th century librarian and schoolchildren.

“What do we need slates for, ma’am?” Natasha asks, smirking. “I can think of something more interesting to do with them.” She’s pretty blatantly sticking her ass out, in case the implication wasn’t already clear.

Sharon has to turn around to collect herself for a moment, because that’s entirely not what she meant. “I want you all to… write lines,” she says, sounding desperate.

“What shall we write, ma’am?” asks Bucky innocently.

Sharon’s eyes go wide. “Write, uh,” she stammers, “write ‘I will be good in the library’ and write it… uh. As many times as you can before you run out of space.”

“We don’t have chalk, Ms. Carter,” points out Natasha, “but we have pens. We could write it on Steve’s ass.” This suggestion, because Sam and Bucky are doubled over chortling and shaking and thus definitely not viable writing surfaces.

“That’s… certainly an idea,” Sharon says. “I don’t know whether to reward you or punish you for. Um. Wanting to get his pants off.”

“Oh, I think you should punish me,” says Natasha, giving her a sultry look. “So I learn my lesson. The other boys can write on Steve and you can take me away for punishment.”

Sharon raises an eyebrow, but one-on-one sounds marginally less intimidating. “Okay,” she says. “I mean all right. I’m going to punish you. Privately. And I expect to see the lines written out when we get back.”

“I’ll keep them on track, Ms. Carter,” Steve promises, grinning brightly.

 

* * *

 

“What are you going to do to me, Ms. Carter?” asks Natasha.

Sharon slams the door and leans against it, making a face. “This may come as a surprise,” she mutters, “but I’m not really with the sexy improv games.”

“I know,” says Natasha, coming over to kiss her on the lips, “but you’re doing just fine. That’s why I suggested this, I figured it would be easier if it was just the two of us.”

“Well, I really need suggestions,” Sharon admits. “I’m out there yammering about _slates_ , for god’s sake.”

Natasha thinks for a minute. “You could go get the yardstick.”

“What yardstick?” Sharon asks.

“A ruler, then,” says Natasha with a shrug. “Same idea.”

“I think I’m missing something,” Sharon sighs.

“Spanking,” Natasha explains. “As gentle as you want. It’s more the principle of the thing.”

“The principle being that it’s sexy when authority figures hit kids with sticks?” Sharon asks, eyebrow raised.

Natasha shrugs. “Not normally, but in a porn context, with consenting partners of appropriate age, sure. I don’t mind it, occasionally.”

Sharon sighs. “Okay, so - _how_?”

“It’s kind of just part of the scene, and also it’s a power thing,” says Natasha. “You’re roleplaying as someone who has power over me, and the spanking is a way of reinforcing that. But I trust you and I know you won’t go too far.”

“Also there’s the fact that, being completely honest, I’m definitely not the one in power,” Sharon adds, smirking.

“Not usually,” agrees Natasha, grinning, “but this is something different. It gives you an opportunity to see what it feels like, in a controlled environment.”

“So the next question is, I guess, what do I… do?” Sharon mumbles.

“I mean, the spanking part is pretty self-explanatory,” teases Natasha. “But as far as making it interesting...you could make me count them off, maybe, or tell me how to pose.”

“Don’t you just lean over something?” Sharon asks.

“Sure. Or you could have me over your lap, or holding onto the back of a chair or something. There are options.”

“Lap sounds fun,” Sharon muses.

“Yes, ma’am,” purrs Natasha. “Do you want me to take off my skirt or keep it on?”

“Well, it’s short enough I can just flip it up,” Sharon replies archly.

Natasha smirks. “Whatever you want, Ms. Carter. Shall I get on your lap now?”

Sharon goes to rummage in her desk for a moment, then turns around with a ruler in hand. “Let me get back into place,” she says, feeling a bit more confident.

Nodding, Natasha puts her arms behind her back and glances at the floor, a picture of submission.

And it’s unusual enough that it makes Sharon swallow _hard_ as she goes to sit on the edge of the bed. “C’mere.”

“Yes, Ms. Carter,” says Natasha, walking over and keeping her gaze on the floor.

“Don’t feel like you can’t get comfortable,” Sharon murmurs, patting her lap. “This should only hurt the way I intend to. Make it hurt. Yes.” She makes a face, because she lost that train of thought somewhere in the middle.

That makes Natasha snicker, but she settles on Sharon’s lap with her ass optimally positioned, then looks back at Sharon, wide-eyed. “Is this what you want, ma’am?”

“Very good,” Sharon croons. “Now, I’m going to start with four…”

“Oh, but I’ve been so bad, Ms. Carter, I think I deserve at least ten,” says Natasha.

“Uh,” Sharon says, very articulately. “Ten. Let’s start with ten.”

“Shall I count them?”

“Please,” Sharon murmurs, and as gently as she can manage she brings the ruler down on Natasha’s ass.

This is only marginally effective, because the ruler is flexible.

Natasha laughs. “One,” she says sweetly, because bless her, Sharon is trying.

“It’s the only ruler I had, okay?” Sharon hisses.

“It’s fine,” says Natasha with a grin. “I’ll make sure we have a better one next time.”

“Next time!” Sharon exclaims, bewildered.

“If you want,” adds Natasha. “Ma’am.”

“Let’s just focus on, uh, on right now,” Sharon says, and she swats at Natasha’s ass again.

Natasha hums. “Two.”

“Is this really a punishment to you?” Sharon murmurs, pausing to stroke over Natasha’s skin. “Or do you enjoy it?”

“If you think this isn’t working, maybe you’d better think of another punishment for me, Ms. Carter,” says Natasha, not bothering to hide the smile in her voice.

“I, I.” Sharon falters, then brings the ruler down again. “This for now.”

“Three! Anything you want, ma’am,” murmurs Natasha.

“I think… I want to hear you say please,” Sharon declares.

“Please?” Natasha asks. “Please, Ms. Carter?”

“What do you want, sweetie?” Sharon hums.

“More, please?”

“I can give you more,” Sharon says, practically rumbling as she smacks Natasha’s ass.

Natasha moans a little. “Four, thank you, ma’am!”

“You’re kinda cute like this,” Sharon muses.

“Thank you,” hums Natasha. “I’d like to be for you.”

“Oh, believe me,” Sharon says, once again slapping Natasha’s ass with the ruler, “you are.”

“Five,” purrs Natasha.

Sharon’s slowly getting more comfortable, and they’re almost to ten when there’s a knock at the door and Bucky calls, “Ms. Carter, are you done yet?”

“Shit,” Sharon mutters, trying not to laugh too loudly.

“You can tell them to wait,” says Natasha with a laugh. “You’re not done with me yet. Are you?”

“Hell no, I’m not,” Sharon says throatily. “What would you do if I told you to get on your knees?”

“I’d do it,” Natasha replies. “Do you want that, ma’am?”

“I do,” Sharon confirms.

Natasha gets off Sharon’s lap and drops to her knees, looking up at Sharon. “And now?”

“And now… I’d like to see if you could be a good girl for me,” Sharon says slowly.

“I could, Ms. Carter. May I take off your skirt, please?”

“You certainly may,” Sharon nods.

So Natasha does, smirking when she sees that Sharon’s not wearing panties either, and then leans in to lick up her center.

“Oh, yeah,” Sharon murmurs. “That’s so nice.”

Natasha hums happily and keeps at it, sucking at Sharon’s clit for a bit. She loves taking care of Sharon like this, and it’s a little closer to their “normal,” so that’s probably helping Sharon.

“God, you’re sweet to me,” Sharon pants, potentially not in-character.

“I want to be, ma’am,” says Natasha, nuzzling her thigh before going back to business.

“Is it weird how hot I find that?” Sharon asks.

Natasha chuckles. “No. That’s pretty normal, in fact.”

“Okay,” Sharon says breathlessly. “Because I do. Like, _really_ hot.”

“Thank you, Ms. Carter,” Natasha purrs before slipping her tongue inside Sharon.

“Oh, yeah,” Sharon moans, “just like that, keep going just like that.”

Natasha hums in acknowledgment before continuing. It’s fun for her, too, reversing the roles like this.

Then there’s another knock at the door. “Ms. Carter?” Steve calls. “Do you have instructions for us?” He sounds a bit bewildered.

Sharon glances down at Natasha, who smirks at her for a moment before saying (too innocently), “Do you want me to stop so you can deal with them, ma’am?”

“No,” Sharon hisses. She takes a breath before she calls, “Keep yourselves entertained, boys. Quietly, please.”

“Okay, Ms. Carter,” says Sam, and there’s faint snickering, but it quickly fades as they (presumably) leave.

The interruption dealt with, Natasha resumes her attentions, moving her tongue a little faster.

“Just like that,” Sharon hums. “Faster, if you like.”

So Natasha speeds up a little more, running her hands over Sharon’s thighs gently. She moans a little, because why not? It’s what would happen in the actual porn.

“So pretty,” Sharon murmurs. “God, I feel so good with you.” It’s also, possibly, actual porn dialogue, but she’s trying to commit.

Natasha pauses to whisper, “Thank you, ma’am. I want that.”

“Well, you’re very good at it,” Sharon says. “You’re very good when you want to be.”

“I do, ma’am,” replies Natasha, before doing everything with her tongue that she knows works.

And it has its desired effect, given that in no time Sharon is moaning and clenching her thighs around Natasha’s head. “Yeah, so good,” she repeats.

“Did I do well, ma’am?” Natasha asks, grinning.

“Very, very well,” Sharon assures her, all but flopping back as she recovers. “That’ll never stop being amazing.”

“Would you like more?”

Sharon bursts out laughing. “Maybe in a minute,” she says. “Come up here and just keep me company until then, and we can figure out what to do with those naughty boys.”

Natasha obediently gets to her feet and kisses Sharon on the lips. “Anything you want, Ms. Carter,” she says with a wink.


	17. and all the ticking sounds around you, that’s the beating of my heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sif takes charge after a particularly heated sparring match, which Melinda takes as a challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Shadowcrawler's first solo smutfic, please be nice?
> 
> Somewhat follows [I stand a pretty good chance to dust myself off and dance](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/13677496).

“Are you going easy on me?” Sif asks as she circles Melinda, grinning mischievously.

Melinda snorts. “Yes, I am,” she deadpans, just before reaching out to cuff Sif on the shoulder, who yelps in surprise. “See?”

Sif bounds out of the way and replies, “Point taken, yes. But you _do_ seem...distracted.”

They both retreat to the corners of the mat and Melinda smirks. “Have you seen yourself? You’re distracting.”

“Could say the same thing about you,” says Sif, jumping forward to get close to Melinda and try to flip her onto her back. She doesn’t actually expect it to work, so when it does and she’s got Melinda pinned under her, she laughs in surprise. “Distracting,” she repeats, grinning down at Melinda.

Who doesn’t look the least bit shocked about her current predicament. “Incredibly so,” purrs Melinda, leaning up to kiss Sif on the lips.

Sif hums and leans into the kiss, resting one hand on the mat below them and one hand on Melinda’s shoulder. This is how most of their sparring sessions end, so she’s not really surprised.

While they’re kissing, she lets her right hand slide down Melinda’s side to slip under the waist of Melinda’s pants. Melinda makes a noise and breaks the kiss to murmur, “Getting ideas?”

“Maybe,” teases Sif, running her fingers over Melinda’s stomach before dipping lower. “And if I am?”

“I’d like to hear more about them, I think.”

“Okay,” says Sif, reaching to stroke Melinda’s clit with one finger. “How about I do this?”

Melinda shifts to give her better access. “I’m listening.”

“And then maybe…” Sif eases one finger inside Melinda, still touching her clit. “This?”

Melinda sighs. “Good idea, but I’ll need more information.”

Sif grins and adds another finger, then starts moving them. “This good, or do you want me to elaborate more?”

Starting to buck her hips with Sif’s fingers, Melinda laughs breathlessly. “N-not right now, that’s good, thanks.”

Sif keeps that up for another minute or two, enjoying how worked up Melinda’s getting, before abruptly pulling her fingers out. “I’ve got some more ideas about other things we can do not on this mat,” she says, grinning wickedly.

“You’re awful,” says Melinda, breathing ragged, but as Sif gets up she does too.

They make their way up to Melinda’s apartment, stopping to make out outside the gym...and on the stairs...and in front of her door. “Worked up, are we?” Sif asks playfully as Melinda jams her key into the lock.

“What do _you_ think?” Melinda asks, tugging her inside once the door’s open.

Sif answers by pulling her close for another kiss. “How about you strip for me?” she murmurs.

That makes Melinda laugh again, but she slips off shoes and her exercise pants and kicks them away, doing the same with her tank top, sports bra, and panties. “Better?” she asks, smirking.

“Yeah,” Sif says, blatantly ogling, “now do the same for me?”

“So you’re in charge now, huh?” says Melinda, but she reaches to slide Sif’s pants off her hips.

“Well, I don’t see you doing anything about it,” teases Sif.

Melinda raises an eyebrow. “Yet,” she replies pointedly, and lets Sif kick off her own shoes before she works her pants and boyshots down, then pulls off her sports bra and gently takes out Sif’s ponytail. “Before we get too far, I think we’d better shower, hm?”

“You don’t always insist on it,” replies Sif with a smirk, but they head towards Melinda’s bathroom.

Once the water’s running hot, Sif takes the opportunity to pick Melinda up and hold her against the shower wall. Melinda’s not expecting it and she makes a small surprised noise. “Just trying something new,” Sif says, kissing her.

Melinda moans in a way that makes it seem like she doesn’t mind in the least and wraps her legs around Sif’s waist to keep herself steady. After they’ve kissed a few times on the lips, Sif moves down to bite at her neck. Melinda’s not the most vocal person, but she whimpers whenever Sif’s teeth scrape at her.

“Having fun?” Sif pauses to ask cheekily.

“Maybe,” teases Melinda. “Better keep going and see how I feel in a few minutes.”

 

* * *

 

Once they’ve finished in the shower, they head back to the bedroom, stopping along the way to kiss more. “Going to give me an order?” Melinda asks playfully.

“Get on the bed,” Sif replies with a smirk, “on your back.”

Melinda does, looking up at Sif expectantly. “And what are you going to have me do now?”

“I think you can figure it out,” Sif says, crawling up Melinda’s body to straddle her face.

Melinda hums and runs her tongue up Sif’s center slowly. She’s good at following orders, but she’s not above teasing, either.

Sif moans a bit. “That’s nice.”

Making a small noise of acknowledgment, Melinda licks at Sif for a bit, just seeing how long she can keep this up before Sif gets annoyed, and when Sif finally groans, “Come _on_ ,” she flicks her tongue at Sif’s clit before sucking at it.

“Mel,” grunts Sif, grinding down on her mouth, “quit teasing!”

That makes Melinda chuckle. She pauses to snark, “You top your way, I bottom mine.”

Sif huffs indignantly but it turns into a yelp when Melinda uses her teeth to scrape at her. “Fuck!”

This goes on for a while longer, Melinda switching her focus just as it sounds like Sif’s getting close. Sif’s not shy about it either, letting out enthusiastic moans and pleading with Melinda even though it doesn’t seem to be doing any good. Finally, when Sif hisses, “ _Christ, Mel,”_ Melinda sucks her clit into her mouth and that sends Sif over the edge with a long, throaty moan.

“Fuck,” she groans, once she’s finished, sagging against Melinda.

“Good?” Melinda asks smugly.

“What do _you_ think?” Sif asks with a breathy laugh. “That was...oh my god.”

“Worth it?”

“You’re an asshole,” says Sif, grinning. “But one who’s great with her mouth. And now…” She rearranges herself so she’s lying on top of Melinda again, leaning down to give her an open-mouthed kiss. “I’m gonna return the favor,” she breathes.

“Are you now?”

“Yeah.” Sif slides down Melinda’s body, kissing as she goes. “You’re so gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” replies Melinda with a smile. “So are you, you know.”

Sif smiles back and starts mouthing at Melinda, moaning happily.

Melinda lets this go on for a minute or two, sighing a bit to let Sif know she’s enjoying it, before she looks down and makes eye contact with her. “Hey,” she says, “how about we do this with you on your knees?”

“Hm?” Sif stops.

“You heard me,” Melinda says, smirking. Then she adjusts so she’s sitting up and starts to scoot towards the end of the bed.

Sif’s eyes flash. “ _Oh._ ” She slides off the bed and kneels, waiting for Melinda to perch on the edge before grabbing Melinda’s thighs and eagerly shoving her face between them.

“Good,” murmurs Melinda, reaching to bury a hand in Sif’s hair.

Sif snorts and slides her tongue inside Melinda, enjoying how that makes Melinda’s breath catch. She knows she’s good at this, but it’s a fun challenge to see what reactions she can get out of Melinda, who is generally pretty quiet.

Which Melinda is very aware of, and she digs her fingers into Sif’s hair and starts guiding Sif to get the movements she wants.

Sif makes a little noise of acknowledgment and lets herself be guided, thrusting her tongue in and out and then, when Melinda wants, moving to her clit. She nips at it, which gets a loud exhale, then licks over it soothingly.

“You’re as good at following orders as you are at giving them,” says Melinda.

Chuckling, Sif keeps going until Melinda moans softly and her thighs clench around Sif’s head. She doesn’t loosen her grip in Sif’s hair until after Sif’s cleaned her up. “Good girl,” she murmurs, smirking.

Sif grins up at her. “I see you got tired of that whole ‘me in charge’ thing.”

“Not tired, just wanted something different,” replies Melinda. “You did well. We should revisit that sometime in the future. For now, I think you deserve a reward.”

Shivering happily, Sif nods.

Melinda offers her hand to pull Sif back onto the bed, which she accepts, and they settle with Sif on her back and Melinda nestled against her on her side, halfway spooning. “How about this?” Melinda asks, slipping one and then two fingers inside Sif.

Sif bucks her hips and nods. “That’s so nice.”

“Good. You deserve nice.” As she gently starts to move her fingers, Melinda leans over to kiss Sif on the lips, which makes Sif moan into Melinda’s mouth.

“If anyone else heard you say that to me, they’d probably faint,” pants Sif.

“Oh, I’m aware. That’s why I wouldn’t say it in front of anybody else.”

Sif laughs at that. “Well, I’m honored.”

“You should be,” says Melinda, smirking and crooking her fingers to coax another moan out of Sif. “Those are nice, I like those,” she comments.

“Y-you’re good at getting them out of me,” gasps Sif. “ _Fuck…_ ”

That just makes Melinda grin and keep at it until Sif yelps and shudders against her, and she strokes her through it before kissing her again. “You’re beautiful,” Melinda murmurs.

Sif nuzzles against her, laughing as best she can. “So are you, Mel.”


	18. affection is in great demand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma has Bobbi and Skye over for a private Valentine's celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows [we're all just looking for a little less crazy and sometimes it's a hard left turn](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/13809445).

“May I go first?” Jemma asks. “With gifts.”

Skye nods. “‘Course, Jem.”

“Well.” Very officiously she dashes into the kitchen and brings out a plate of heart-shaped cookies. “Made by me, with love. For all of us.”

“How domestic,” Bobbi grins, taking a seat on the couch and grabbing a cookie to eat.

“And then… for Bobbi, I…” “Jemma scrunches up her face and retrieves a glittery pink bag from the shelf by the door. “Just open it.”

Bobbi does, reaching into the bag and pulling out first the unnecessary tissue paper, which makes her smile, and then a small stuffed Corgi, which makes her absolutely grin. “Their name is BB-8, right?” she asks.

Jemma nods eagerly. “I figured that would be your choice.”

“I told her this was the best idea,” Skye says with a grin. “Totally BB-8.”

“Well, it was sort of your idea in the first place I mean, idly,” Jemma says to Skye. “So thank you for… suggesting, sort of.”

Skye kisses her cheek. “Of course. We already did our gift exchange,” she adds to Bobbi with a mischievous grin. “You’ll see what it was later. But here’s your present.” She hands Bobbi a haphazardly wrapped box.

Bobbi raises an eyebrow. “Color me intrigued,” she murmurs, because she completely understands the implications. She shakes the box showily before ripping the wrapping paper off to reveal a few small plush microbes on keychains. “Aw, you catered to my other nerdy side!”

“Yeah, I thought you’d like that. See, I gave you mono!” says Skye cheerfully, pointing at the pink blobby one with exaggerated eyelashes.

“Yeah, I see that,” Bobbi snorts. “Dork.”

“Takes one to know one,” Skye replies, grinning.

“Yeah, yeah, I never said it didn’t,” Bobbi laughs. “But enough about that. What say we leave BB-8 to babysit the microbes and you show me these mystery gifts.”

Jemma’s eyes go wide and she sits up a bit straighter. “Yes, please, if you’d like that,” she murmurs.

Skye hums affectionately and then says, “Okay, we’ll move to the bedroom then. You stay there for a minute.” She offers her hand for Jemma to take.

“You’ll call for me when you’re ready, I guess?” Bobbi asks playfully.

“Something like that,” Jemma squeaks, grabbing Skye’s hand and standing.

“See you in a bit,” says Skye airily, leading Jemma toward the bedroom.

Bobbi just settles back to wait, impressed that they’ve managed to actually pull her in like this. (She has a vague idea, but she’s still curious enough for it to be fun.)

“Thank goodness Fitz really _is_ out tonight,” Jemma murmurs, giggling.

“Yeah, I _may_ have bribed Trip to get him to let Fitz spend the night. I mean, it wasn’t much of a bribe because he didn’t need much convincing, but still.” Skye smirks.

“Still,” Jemma agrees. “It makes it a bit less stressful.”

 

* * *

 

“Okay, Bobbi,” calls Skye a little while later. “C’mon in!”

It’s been long enough that Bobbi has started to fidget, which has taken the form of slowly unbuttoning her shirt because she has a pretty good idea of what’s going on, and she’s up and into the bedroom in no time. To her simultaneous delight and complete lack of surprise, Skye is kneeling on the bed beside Jemma, who’s sitting on the edge of the bed gagged and bound at ankles, knees, wrists, elbows, and with a final rope pulled up between her legs. Her lingerie is a holiday-appropriate pink lace, Skye’s is red to match the rigging.

“Well if this isn’t the prettiest thing I’ve seen all week,” she murmurs.

Jemma hums happily and Skye smiles. “Isn’t she though?”

“She is,” Bobbi nods. “You both are. I guess this would be a good time for my presents to you?

Jemma squeaks, nodding.

“Yeah, sounds good to me,” agrees Skye.

Bobbi reaches into her purse (which she so cleverly brought along) and pulls out one item. “This one is Jemma’s, so I’ll just unwrap it for her,” she says with a smirk. “Ever done body paint?”

Jemma shakes her head.

“Perfect,” Bobbi says. “Then it’ll be a first. And this stuff glows in the dark, too. You like that?”

Jemma nods.

“And for Skye…” Bobbi pauses to hand Skye a small gift.

Skye raises an eyebrow, taking the gift and unwrapping it, then tilts her head once it’s opened. “Mascara?”

“Explore a bit,” Bobbi encourages smugly.

Confused, Skye turns the mascara over and feels around until the tip starts buzzing. “Woah! Okay, I get it,” she says, smirking.

“Thought that might be fun for you,” Bobbi says.

“Definitely fun,” replies Skye. “Maybe fun for _you_ too.”

‘That is a possibility,” Bobbi agrees. “On the subject of fun for me, I admit I’m feeling a little bit unlucky. I didn’t even get to give honey a kiss before you did her up.” She pouts exaggeratedly.

Jemma perks up a bit.

“It gonna be okay if I take that out for a minute?” Bobbi asks Skye.

Skye nods, grinning like she knows a secret.

So Bobbi approaches, petting Jemma’s hair before she pulls the gag out and moves in for a kiss. Jemma for her part keeps it perfectly chaste, but when Bobbi breaks away she chirps, “You must have a p-value of at least 0.5, because I fail to reject you.”

Bobbi cracks up. “What the hell is that?” she asks. “Not the p-value, I know that. Why did that just come out of your mouth?”

Jemma glances at Skye expectantly, like she’s waiting for a prompt, and Skye, still grinning, runs her hand through Jemma’s hair. “Go on,” she says.

“I’m not sure what quidditch position you play, but I bet you’re a keeper,” Jemma recites cheerfully.

“So this was your idea?” Bobbi asks Skye.

“Is your name homework?” Jemma interrupts. “Because I’m not doing you right now but I should be.”

Skye snickers. “Surprise!”

Bobbi rolls her eyes. “Trolls,” she mutters. “Honey, open up.” Jemma obligingly opens her mouth and Bobbi replaces the gag. “I guess we’ll see how long that lasts. Skye, sugar, could you undress me?”

“Sure thing,” says Skye, moving over to pull Bobbi’s unbuttoned shirt off and then fiddle with the zipper on her jeans. “Nice,” she says when she sees Bobbi’s purple lingerie set.

“It felt of the moment,” Bobbi says, shrugging. “Clear off honey’s chair for me?” Because the chair at Jemma’s desk is currently stacked with books.

“Okay.” Skye gets off the bed and starts to move the books under the desk. “Why?”

Bobbi smirks and very gently picks Jemma up. “Because she looks so pretty like that, but we need the bed for other things,” she says archly, setting Jemma in the chair once it’s cleared. Jemma makes a disconsolate whining noise until Bobbi kisses her cheek and adds, “Just for a little while, honey.”

“Ooh, what other things?”

“I’m going to go stretch out,” Bobbi says, doing just that, “and you behave accordingly.”

“Alright,” replies Skye, with no sarcasm or bite behind the word. She gets back on the bed and crawls over to press kisses to Bobbi’s thighs.

“Thank you,” Bobbi hums, reaching to pet Skye’s hair.

Skye makes a happy noise before moving to suck Bobbi’s clit into her mouth.

“Oh, yeah, that’s nice,” Bobbi sighs. “Isn’t that nice, honey?” And Jemma nods very eagerly.

After doing that for a little while, Skye starts licking inside Bobbi. She’s focused, almost docile, not teasing Bobbi or being mouthy.

Which after a while, Bobbi does notice. “Kinda calm tonight, huh?”

Skye pauses to say “Just for tonight” and smirk.

“Happy Valentine’s,” Bobbi chuckles, ruffling Skye’s hair a bit. “You could go a little rougher, though.”

Nodding, Skye nips at Bobbi a little before moving her tongue faster.

Bobbi glances over at Jemma again, making sure this is working her up and finding that it definitely is. “God, just like that,” she murmurs to Skye, maybe playing it up just a little for effect.

Skye hums and runs her fingernails down the outside of Bobbi’s thighs as she thrusts her tongue.

From her seat, which currently feels much too far away, Jemma whimpers; Bobbi shivers, bucking her hips against Skye’s mouth. “So close,” she hisses.

Hearing that, Skye reaches to pinch Bobbi’s clit with her fingers.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Bobbi shrieks, digging her fingernails into Skye’s shoulder as she comes, loud and completely theatrical. “God, that…”

Satisfied, Skye keeps going until Bobbi’s calmed and then looks up, grinning. “You taste really good, by the way.”

Jemma whines in agreement, and the overall experience is so weirdly cute that Bobbi laughs. “Glad to satisfy,” she says, tugging Skye up for a kiss.

“No complaints here,” says Skye, flopping next to her.

“Just decided to be extra-sweet for the holiday?” Bobbi asks.

“I mean, I figured you’d like it,” Skye replies. “Don’t get used to it though.”

“It’s fun,” Bobbi muses, “but I wouldn’t want it all the time. Pushing and pulling with you is sort of fun, too.”

“I mean, that’s kinda my default, so.” Skye shrugs. “Glad you like it.”

“I doubt we’d be here if I didn’t,” Bobbi points out.

“So…” Skye draws the word out lazily. “What’s next?” She glances over at Jemma, completely unsubtle.

Bobbi gets it, of course, but she’s also capable of trolling a little. “Next, I think it’s time we enjoy more of that baking,” she declares, rolling off the bed and sauntering out of the room despite Jemma’s utterly distraught noises.

“Aw, honey,” murmurs Skye soothingly, coming over to pet her hair. “Be patient. You look so cute like this.”

Jemma mumbles something like _it’s hard, but thank you_ and rubs against Skye’s hand.

“ _So_ cute,” Skye repeats, leaning in to kiss her.

“Hey, now, did I say you could do that?” Bobbi chides, reentering with the plate of cookies.

“No, but you didn’t say I couldn’t either,” Skye points out.

Bobbi rolls her eyes. “Just come sit down and eat a damn cookie.”

Skye snickers and does as she’s told. “These are really good, honey,” she says to Jemma.

Jemma’s eyes light up as she attempts another _thank you_ , and Bobbi takes one of the cookies almost contemplatively before she says, “Do you want one yourself?”

Jemma tilts her head.

“I’ll let you have one if you’re good,” Bobbi coaxes, coming over to stand beside Jemma.

“You will be, won’t you?” Skye encourages.

As sweet as can be managed, Jemma nods assent, so Bobbi pulls the gag out and holds the cookie out for Jemma to take a bite, and then another bite, and then another till it’s gone.

“Good girl,” Bobbi murmurs, petting Jemma’s shoulders.

“I wanna be like DNA helicase and unzip your genes,” Jemma recites with a smile.

Bobbi raises an eyebrow, and before Jemma can react the gag is back in her mouth and Bobbi has picked her up again. “I do like you sitting there like that for us, but I think it’s time you make yourself useful,” she murmurs. “Skye, when I sit honey on the bed, I want you to undo her arms and get her laid flat on her back for me.”

“Okay,” Skye says, tilting her head quizzically. This is intriguing.

Bobbi sets Jemma down with a very soft thud. “I just had a _very_ interesting idea,” she explains.

“Oh yeah?” Skye starts to untie the rope around Jemma’s wrists.

“I did,” Bobbi says, tracing her fingertips over Jemma’s cheek. “But I think it’ll be more fun to show than tell.”

“Color me intrigued,” says Skye, adjusting Jemma’s legs so she’s stretched out on her back.

That done, Bobbi climbs onto the bed and straddles Jemma’s hips. “Ropes, please?”

Skye hands them to her. “What are you gonna do?”

‘Well, get her arms back out of the way,” Bobbi shrugs, arranging Jemma’s arms above her head and tying rope around her elbows and wrists. Jemma is staring up at her curiously, not sure quite where this is going.

“For what?”

Bobbi grins and inches her way up Jemma’s body till she’s hovering over Jemma’s mouth. “You’re such a good girl,” she coos before she drops her hips to rub _hard_ against the ball gag.

Jemma, unsurprisingly, lets out a high-pitched wail.

“Oh, _shit,_ ” says Skye, and she can’t help but grin.

“What was that, sugar?” Bobbi asks, turning her head.

“You’re just hot as fuck,” Skye replies.

Bobbi grins, bracing her hands on Jemma’s headboard as she grinds against Jemma’s face. “Well, letting her eat me out wouldn’t exactly be a punishment,” she murmurs. “Although I don’t know if this is either. Check for me?”

Skye shifts so she can run her hand over Jemma’s stomach and down to her panties. “I mean, she’s pretty well soaked,” she says. “So I guess it’s working?”

“You were thoughtful enough to put that extra rope there for her, why don’t you give it a tug just to make sure,” Bobbi suggests archly, very intentionally avoiding Jemma’s gaze.

Skye grins and does so, which sure enough makes Jemma let out a choked wail and jerk her hips up desperately.

“Damn,” murmurs Skye. “I guess that’s working.”

Jemma whines her agreement, nodding feverishly, and Bobbi reaches down to stroke her hair as she rubs on the gag. “You’re so pretty,” she assures. “So good for us.”

Skye moves to climb onto Jemma’s hips, running her hands over Jemma’s skin. “The prettiest,” she echoes. “Such a good girl.”

“Just lying here for us, being sweet, even though I bet you’re going wild,” Bobbi adds.

“She really is,” says Skye with a nod, dragging her fingernails down Jemma’s sides.

Jemma shivers, whimpering as she tries to lift her head to help Bobbi out.

“Thank you, honey,” Bobbi says sweetly, grinding down.

Jemma mumbles some messy attempt at a _you’re welcome_.

“You do this often?” Skye asks Bobbi playfully.

“Actually, no,” Bobbi shrugs. “But it seemed like a good idea.”

“Sure looks fun.” Skye grins. “And Jem seems to be enjoying herself.”

Bobbi turns to smirk at Skye. “You can give it a try when I’m done, if you’re interested.”

Skye tilts her head, considering. “I might, yeah. Never thought of doing it this way before.”

Jemma whines inarticulately, presumably in favor of this.

“Oh, seems like she’d like that,” hums Skye, petting Jemma again.

Jemma nods very eagerly, which has the added effect of rubbing her gag against Bobbi’s clit, and Bobbi grins, taking hold of Jemma’s head. “That’s really nice, honey,” she murmurs. “Can we keep doing that for a little while?” It’s not really a question.

“Yeah, goddamn, keep doing that,” breathes Skye, “this is fucking hot.”

Bobbi grins, moving Jemma’s head up and down and back and forth a while. “What good girls,” she says. “I’m having a lovely evening.”

Skye laughs, breathing rough. “Glad to hear it. I’m having a good time too. And she definitely is,” she adds, drawing circles on Jemma’s stomach.

Bobbi looks down into Jemma’s eyes, wide and trusting and content, and she nods. “Definitely,” she says. There could be more to that thought, but she interrupts herself with a moan as she finds the apparent perfect place to rub and orgasms. For a moment, there’s no acting about it; she drops her head toward her chest, holds onto the headboard for dear life. She just feels really fucking good.

“ _Damn,_ ” says Skye in admiration.

Ungracefully, Bobbi rolls off of Jemma and spoons her. “You, honey, are incredible,” she declares.

“She really is,” Skye says, leaning down to kiss Jemma’s cheek.

“Such a good girl,” Bobbi says, gently easing the gag out to kiss Jemma’s lips passionately. “You should join, sugar.”

“Ooh, okay,” purrs Skye, kissing Jemma as well. “Good girl.”

Jemma sighs happily, wiggling for a lack of anything else to do. “Hey,” she mumbles, words slurring. “You must, must be the square root of two, ‘cause…” She interrupts herself with a giggle.

“‘Cause what, honey?” coaxes Skye, petting her hair.

“Well, I feel, I feel _irrational_ around you,” Jemma finishes, unable to stop grinning.

“Jesus,” Bobbi sighs fondly. “I think it’s time this goes back in.” She replaces the gag, but first she turns the ball so the side she was rubbing against is on Jemma’s tongue. This, of course, makes Jemma moan.

“Does that taste good, honey?” Skye asks, reaching to fiddle with one of Jemma’s nipples.

Jemma nods, arching her back. Whatever she tries to say is a positive thing, almost definitely.

“You should play with her a little too,” Skye encourages Bobbi.

“That could be fun,” Bobbi muses, letting her fingers travel down Jemma’s stomach.

“Y’know,” continues Skye, “work her up a little before I get on.”

Jemma about wails, desperate and aroused.

“There’s an idea,” Bobbi says smugly, ghosting her hand over Jemma’s panties before moving to her thighs, tracing the line where they’re pressed together.

Skye giggles. “We’re mean.”

“We’re just having fun,” Bobbi counters, leaning to kiss Jemma’s neck.

Jemma whines.

“We definitely are,” agrees Skye, moving up to position herself over Jemma’s face. “Ready, honey?”

Jemma nods, whimpering in assent.

Skye starts to grind her hips against the ball, humming as she does. “This _is_ nice.”

Jemma breathes heavily through her nose, clearly concentrating on making it as nice for Skye as it was for Bobbi, and Bobbi coaxes, “Really get into it. This is gorgeous.”

Nodding acknowledgment, Skye rocks her hips harder, letting herself moan a little. “Thanks.”

Jemma hums what’s probably also a thank you, rubbing her face up over Skye’s center.

“Like that?” Bobbi asks.

“Yeah,” gasps Skye, “this is... _fuck_ …”

Jemma purrs in the back of her throat, gazing up at Skye sweetly.

“What a good girl,” murmurs Skye, moaning after she’s gotten the words out.

“She is,” Bobbi agrees, tracing fingers along Jemma’s arms to make her shiver even more.

“I’m getting close,” Skye says, “honey, can you…”

Jemma makes a noise of agreement and rubs against Skye as powerfully as she’s able.

Skye shrieks as she comes and then flops against Jemma’s side, panting. “Thank you,” she says once she’s caught her breath, “you’re amazing.”

Seeming just as exhausted and just as blissed out, Jemma nods, humming thank you. She seems pretty well fucked out, so Bobbi hazards to slip the gag out and kiss her gently. “You going to be good?” she asks.

Jemma smiles the sleepiest shit-eating grin imaginable and says “Hey, h-hey, who, ah, who needs… Google?”

Bobbi shakes her head. “You definitely don’t, you’ve looked up the worst pick-up lines imaginable,” she sighs, putting the gag back and kissing right on top of it. “Goofball.”

“Thought you’d like them,” says Skye lazily.

“It’s certainly festive,” Bobbi drawls. “Hey, Skye, wanna make out?”

“Do I ever,” says Skye. “Down here or are we sitting up?”

“Whatever,” Bobbi says. “I’ll listen to suggestions.”

Jemma whines loudly.

“I think we should let honey watch,” replies Skye. “She’s getting pretty frustrated, I bet.”

Jemma nods.

“Think we oughta ease up on her a little?” Bobbi asks playfully.

“I mean, you’re the boss,” Skye teases. “But I guess you got me that toy, huh? We could let her use that, maybe.”

“Ooh, now that’s a fun idea,” Bobbi declares. “Let’s see if it helps her out. Go grab it?”

Skye nods, rolling off the bed to grab the vibrator from the neat pile of gifts it’s been placed in. “You want this, honey?” she asks Jemma, grinning.

Jemma nods again, almost frantic.

Skye fiddles with the toy for a moment, switching it on. “You wanna do the honors?” She holds it out to Bobbi.

“As it were,” Bobbi agrees, laying the vibrator between Jemma’s legs with the tip approximately focused on her clit before she props herself up on her elbows and nods for Skye to get on top of her.

And Skye does, kissing her fiercely. “You’re so damn hot,” she whispers.

“Thanks, sugar,” Bobbi murmurs smugly. “You’re pretty hot yourself.” She slides her arms around Skye’s waist, holding her in place.

“Gosh, flatterer.” Skye nips at her neck, wanting to see what Bobbi will do.

“Now, now,” Bobbi chides, but it’s halfhearted, like she’s doing it because she feels she ought and not because she necessarily means it. “What happened to being sweet?”

Skye shrugs. “I got bored?”

Bobbi angles her head to nip at Skye’s neck in return. “Brat.”

“Never said I wasn’t,” gasps Skye, nibbling at Bobbi’s lower lip.

“Lucky for you, it’s sort of hot,” Bobbi teases, punctuating it with a gasp.

“Thanks. Anything else I can do for you?”

“You should check on honey,” Bobbi suggests casually, reaching to stroke Jemma’s arms and knowing full well that Jemma’s just going to groan.

“Ooh, okay.” Skye moves over to run her hand over Jemma’s panties, careful not to move the vibrator too much. “Seems like you’re enjoying this,” she murmurs. Then she reaches to move the vibe around a little.

Jemma nods frantically, whimpering what she hopes works as a plea for more deliberate attention - all this is doing is teasing the hell out of her.

“Enjoying it, but perhaps not truly content,” Bobbi muses.

“Aw,” says Skye, “maybe we should help with that.”

Jemma nods again.

“I think you can mark that toy away in the ‘fun for another time’ category,” Bobbi says, leaning to stroke Jemma’s hair. “How about we try out her gift now?”

“Okay!” Skye goes to get the body paint (which, seeing as there are six small jars, is easier said than done) and then turns to look back at Bobbi. “Should I get the light while I’m over here?”

“Would you?” Bobbi asks in that way that’s basically an order.

Skye nods and walks over to flick the lightswitch. Then proceeds to trip in the dark and faceplant into the bed, sending the paint scattering. “Shit!”

“You okay?” Bobbi asks, easing up.

“Yeah, fine, happens all the time,” says Skye, retrieving the jars and crawling up on the bed with as much dignity as she can muster. “Anyway, where were we?”

“Get the vibrator out of the way and let’s get honey’s legs untied,” Bobbi suggests.

Jemma exhales, the sound somehow high-pitched.

Skye runs her hand over Jemma’s body very carefully until she finds her legs and where she’s put the vibrator, and then switches it off after a bit of fumbling. “Okay,” she says, reaching down for the rope around Jemma’s legs.

Bobbi and Skye get the ropes untied and pulled out of the way and Bobbi suggests, “You paint, I…?”

“Sure!” Skye unscrews one of the jars - pink, to match the heart from earlier - and starts to absentmindedly draw designs on Jemma.

Meanwhile, Bobbi slips Jemma’s panties off, presses a hand over her center for a moment as she murmurs, “You ready?”

Jemma whimpers again, not even sounding like she’s trying for words anymore.

“Pretty girl,” Bobbi says fondly, nosing at Jemma before she runs her tongue up her slit. “Pretty girl making pretty noises.”

“So pretty,” Skye agrees. “And looking pretty too.” She’s not really sure what she’s doing with the paint, mostly just swirls and curlicues, but she thinks it looks cool.

And for Jemma, it _feels_ cool, too, just one more different sort of sensation while Bobbi’s tongue is so magical and perfect. She whines again, but delightedly this time, arching against Skye as best she can.

Skye presses a kiss to her stomach before painting a green flower on it. “What a nice girl.”

In Jemma’s mind she manages to say she wants to be, but out loud - well, less that, messy enough that Bobbi giggles. “Very nice,” she says. “And so patient with us.”

“Oh yeah,” Skye agrees, “you kept it together and waited for us. I’m proud of you.”

That makes Jemma keen like it always does, her eyelids fluttering.

“I know we weren’t making it easy,” Bobbi chuckles, “but you held on. You deserve a reward.”

 _This is_ , Jemma attempts to say. Bobbi lifts her eyes to ask Skye to translate, and Skye chuckles before translating, “She says this is definitely a reward.”

“Good,” Bobbi declares. “It should be.” She sucks on Jemma’s clit for a long moment before she adds, “I’d love to keep hearing you.”

“Yeah, you can be as loud as you want, honey,” Skye encourages her. “We like that.”

Jemma moans, rutting up against Bobbi’s mouth appreciatively. She can only see some of what Skye is painting, and that at an odd angle, but she loves the way it feels, just the slightest bit chilly against her skin while Bobbi’s attentions are making her so warm.

“Thank you,” says Skye, leaning down to kiss Jemma on the lips. “You’re so sweet. You follow our orders so well.”

 _Wanna_ , Jemma mumbles, clearly beaming.

“You do,” Skye murmurs warmly. She reaches to pet Jemma’s hair. “I love you.”

 _Love you too_ , Jemma attempts, then making a slightly frustrated noise and nodding down to Bobbi, hoping Skye will catch on.

“She says same to you, except not,” explains Skye with a grin.

Bobbi looks up, smirking. “Yeah, same,” she says casually. “Think you’re ready to come for us, honey?”

Jemma whimpers, nodding some more.

Bobbi replaces her tongue with her fingers for long enough to suggest, “Say please.”

Jemma tries to, as coherently as she’s able.

“Good enough,” says Skye, petting her. “Bobbi?”

“I like that,” Bobbi agrees. “Give us more of that, all right?”

Jemma whines almost helplessly, but she does try.

“Good,” Bobbi murmurs, and she returns her attention to Jemma’s clit, flicking her tongue against it at a varying rate until Jemma yells and quite clearly reaches climax.

“God,” whispers Skye, watching. “So beautiful.”

“She is,” Bobbi whispers before moving back in, apparently looking to replicate the success of her original experiment.

That’s not difficult; Jemma feels so wound up she could explode, but in a very nice way, so it’s not hard to go from feeling like she can’t possibly take any more to wanting as much as she can get for as long as she can get it.

Skye just keeps touching her, awed. “Goddamn.”

Bobbi guides Jemma through another couple of orgasms until what amounts to Jemma’s begging really isn’t even _trying_ to be anything but vowels, and she sits up with a smirk. “Why don’t you give her a real kiss,” Bobbi suggests to Skye.

Grinning, Skye reaches to undo the gag, gently easing it out of Jemma’s mouth. “Hi,” she says affectionately, giving Jemma a kiss on the lips once she’s set the gag aside.

“ _Hiiiiii_ ,” Jemma replies, the word coming out like one long exhale.

“Feeling good?”

Jemma nods. “Uh-huh,” she mumbles, tilting her head in Skye’s direction like she wants more attention somehow. “ _Very_ …”

Bobbi scoots up the bed. “Yeah,” she agrees fondly. “You’re very.”

Skye giggles, petting Jemma’s hair. “Glad you had a good time, honey. We sure did.”

“Want us to untie you all the way?” Bobbi asks.

“If you wanna,” Jemma says amiably.

“I think it’s time,” Bobbi declares. To Skye she says, “You do wrists, I’ll do elbows.”

“Okay.” Skye carefully reaches to undo Jemma’s wrists, only having a bit of trouble in the darkness.

“Thank you,” Jemma mumbles, wiggling. “You take good care of me.”

“We wanna,” replies Skye fondly. “You’re the best girl.”

“Thank you,” Jemma repeats. Once her arms are free, she pulls them in, rubs her wrists with a giggle, then asks, “Whose lap?”

“Well, both of you could borrow mine,” Bobbi says casually.

Skye grins lazily. “Sounds nice.”

Jemma moves over so her head is resting on one of Bobbi’s thighs and sighs happily. “I like it here,” she announces.

Copying her on Bobbi’s other side, Skye hums in agreement. “Thanks, Bobbi.”

“You’re welcome,” Bobbi says. “I like spending time with you guys.”

“Thank you,” Jemma says. “That means a lot.”


	19. she is shaking, she is shy while we are waiting for her message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Valentine's, Raina cheers Kara up and helps her truly break her new apartment in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vaguely follows [I'm already out of foolproof ideas, so don't ask me how to get started](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/13943151).

_> >I’ve got a box of overpriced chocolates with your name on it._

_> >Why?_

_> >Belated holiday tidings, of course._

_> >But why me?_

_> >Because February has been arbitrarily devoted to showering lovers with gifts and adoration. Also I like having excuses to give you flowers._

_> >You spoil me. You don’t need to._

_> >But I want to. I heard you’ve been feeling low, and I want to cheer you up._

_> >Who said a thing like that?_

_> >Heard it from a spectacularly statuesque mockingbird. So what say?_

_> >I say I’m going to give that mockingbird a talking-to. But if you insist on pampering me I’m not proud enough to refuse._

_> >Good. If you’re interested I’d like to help you break your new apartment in._

_> >Euphemistically?_

_> >Euphemistically. If you wanted to use more of that rainy day fund to treat yourself to something frothy and femme, I wouldn’t argue it._

_> >Is that an order?_

_> >Never._

 

* * *

 

Raina is surprisingly punctual, or, maybe it’s not a surprise, it just feels like someone with her head rather in the clouds by most people’s standards should be less concerned with timely arrival. Whatever the case, Kara isn’t quite ready when her buzzer goes off, so she’s still applying lipstick as she goes for the door.

“I’m sorry,” she says by way of greeting.

“What for?” Raina (in one of her bombshell dresses, cream satin with pink and yellow roses and these three-inch heels that she knows Kara likes because then they’re the same height, carrying both silk flowers, yellow and pink roses that match the dress, and a comically large box of chocolates) asks. “Happy sappy fluff day.”

“Goddamn,” Kara says, startled. “I -”

“You do deserve this,” Raina interrupts. “Pardon my presumption, but I want you to know that.”

Kara ducks her head sheepishly. “Come in,” she murmurs instead. “I, um, I made pasta? If you’re hungry?”

“Of course,” Raina says. “Wine?”

“Red or white?” Kara asks.

“Red,” Raina says immediately.

“Red,” Kara repeats. “I got one, I don’t know if it’s any good, but I’ll open it and we can find out.”

“I’m sure it will suffice,” Raina shrugs cheerfully. “Can I get the tour?”

“Oh!” Kara exclaims. “Yes. You can set those…” She gestures from Raina’s hands to the small dining table, and Raina takes the hint, momentarily parting with the gifts. “It’s pretty small, but I, I like it. It’s mine. Just mine.”

“Yes,” Raina says. “I hope the rainy day fund helped pull it together?”

“It did,” Kara nods. “I put some of it toward the bed. It seemed appropriate.” She smirks. “God, everyone’s been so helpful. Karen and the boys helped with all of my kitchen stuff, Bucky and everyone got me that lamp and helped with -” She giggles as Autumn comes bounding out of the bedroom. “Well, this cutie.”

“She seems friendly,” Raina says, hesitantly offering her hand for the dog to sniff. She’s not really an animal person, but she’s not put off that Kara is. It makes sense.

“She is,” Kara agrees. “Good thing you buzzed instead of knocking, though. She’s not as relaxed about that.”

“Good of her,” Raina says dryly. “I like the couch.”

Kara smiles hesitantly. “That, uh, that I got from… so Skye’s mom, out in California? She runs that shelter, right, and when Skye told her about what happened…” She shrugs. “She sent a check, it was very kind of her. She’s a nice woman, Skye introduced us over video chat.”

“I knew Jiaying,” Raina nods. “She’s generous with people who fall under her care or her type to care for one way or another, and I’m sure she’s proud that Skye’s got that same instinct.”

“Tell me about that sometime?” Kara murmurs, meaning how in the world Raina would know Skye’s mother in California.

“I will,” Raina promises. It’s too complicated a story for tonight, but she’ll be glad to share someday. Kara has already learned more of her secrets than most people.

“The bedroom is back there,” Kara continues. “That, I figure, is best saved for after dinner.”

“Mm, so it is,” Raina hums.

 

* * *

 

They eat not exactly quickly, but with the knowledge that there’s more to get to, and when their plates are cleared Raina slides the flowers and the chocolates across the table to Kara. “They’re for affection and admiration,” she explains.

“I didn’t get you anything but dinner,” Kara murmurs, blushing.

“Doesn’t matter,” Raina says with a shrug. “Dinner counts as a present, as far as I’m concerned, but I don’t need anything. I like being with you.” And she does, in a way she can’t quite explain. It’s different than how she feels about Lorelei, and it both is and isn’t simpler than she’s Lorelei’s sub and Kara’s domme. She and Lorelei have different things in common than she and Kara; Kara’s, all said, a better person than Lorelei, and being with her is a bit more innocent, somehow.

None of it is the pure romantic kind of love, but there’s a sort of love there.

“I like being with you too,” Kara murmurs. “You’re… it’s funny, you’re one of the most complicated people I know but this isn’t complicated at all.”

“Just vague and nontraditional,” Raina teases. She opens the box and selects a chocolate. “Open your mouth?”

Kara gulps, but she does as she’s asked, sticking her tongue out just a bit and shutting her eyes.

“Good,” Raina says, placing the candy on Kara’s tongue and gently shutting Kara’s mouth, stroking her cheek in encouragement.

“Can I say thank you?” Kara asks once the chocolate is gone.

Raina tilts her head.

“You know.” Kara slips onto her knees and nods at Raina’s hips. “I want to try. I think it’s a good time.”

Raina bites her lip, but she nods. “Please,” she says. “You’re very sweet, beloved.”

 

* * *

 

Kara is gentle, eating Raina out carefully and like she’s exploring, and it makes Raina smile. She sails through two orgasms before Kara has to pull back and take a deep breath, mouth shiny and eyes wide, and she tugs Kara to standing soon as they’re both recovered.

“ _Sas efcharistó, ángelos_ ,” Raina whispers against Kara’s skin.

“ _Eíste efprósdektoi, vasílissá mou_ ,” Kara replies, reverent.

This makes Raina’s eyebrow go up - she doesn’t think of herself in such a way, but maybe that’s the point - but she smiles. “Let me treat you in return,” she suggests, nodding in the direction of the couch.

 

* * *

 

It feels a bit odd, being laid out on a couch that was essentially a gift from someone’s mother while receiving oral, but it’s pleasant enough that Kara can push that thought back. Raina is flat on her stomach, her tongue flicking over Kara’s clit relentlessly, and it makes Kara scream loud enough that she gasps.

“My neighbors will hate me,” she murmurs.

“Then they’re not getting laid properly,” Raina smirks. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not supposed to - that is, I, I don’t want to…” Kara makes a face, and in what she hopes is a sexy way she balls her own panties up and stuffs them in her mouth. It works, she knows; she used to do that when she’d get herself off sometimes.

Raina watches this curiously, but without judgment. She’d never insist, but if it makes Kara feel more comfortable, she won’t argue.

 

* * *

 

They don’t bother tidying the living room before Raina takes Kara by the hand and asks, “Bedroom?”

Kara nods.

She’s quiet while Raina pulls her dress off, then unhooks her raspberry-colored bra, but when Raina starts undressing she perches at the edge of her bed - beige-colored quilted headboard, gray comforter with a jacquard floral pattern at the center - and whimpers instinctively. Liking what she sees in front of her is still a novelty.

Once Raina’s just as naked she crosses to the bed, carefully pushes Kara down and back on the bed. “You ever done tribbing?” she asks.

Kara shakes her head, eyes wide.

“No time like the present, _agapiméni mou_ ,” Raina whispers, lining up their hips and rolling down.

 

* * *

 

They’ve taken a good solid ten minutes to recover from that, draped over each other but not exactly cuddling, when Raina pulls the panties out of Kara’s mouth. “I’m going to shower,” she announces. “You’re free to join me.”

Kara giggles. “I have a feeling that’s going to defeat the whole point of getting clean, but I don’t mind,” she declares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _sas efcharistó, ángelos_ ; "thank you, angel"  
>  _Eíste efprósdektoi, vasílissá mou_ ; "you're welcome, my queen"  
>  _agapiméni mou_ ; "my beloved"


	20. I'm not bulletproof when we smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria and Isabelle go to Switzerland for their honeymoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows [I will become yours and you will become mine, I choose you](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/14051765).

“Not bad, for an airport hotel,” Victoria murmurs as they push into their room.

Isabelle nods. “Nice big bed,” she says, shooting Victoria a flirty look.

“A nice big bed that we’ll have to be out of at an absurd hour of the morning,” Victoria points out, setting her suitcase down.

Pouting, Isabelle sighs. “Make out a little?”

“That’s a much better idea,” Victoria says. “There’s always sleeping on the plane but I don’t want to be completely sleep-deprived when we have to deal with the airport.”

“How practical of you,” replies Isabelle, sprawling onto the bed. “C’mon, wife, kiss me?”

“First, undressing,” Victoria declares, beginning to tend to her pants and sweater. “We should probably shower, too, so we don’t have to worry about it in the morning.”

Isabelle sits up and shucks off her own clothes. “Okay, but I can’t promise my hands won’t wander,” she teases.

“I’m sure that will be lovely, but don’t worry, I’ll keep us on track,” Victoria says smugly.

After that’s done, they nestle together on the bed kissing. “You’re gorgeous,” breathes Isabelle.

“We do make an exceptionally attractive couple,” Victoria smirks, nuzzling into Isabelle’s neck for a moment.

“Damn right.” Isabelle laughs. “That was definitely a priority of mine.”

“Making everyone else jealous when they think about how they’ll never be as pretty as us?”

“Oh, of course.” Isabelle leans over to kiss Victoria’s cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Victoria says. “Wife.”

“Sure is nice getting to say that,” hums Isabelle.

“It is,” Victoria agrees. “I used to cringe at the thought, but I guess you’re pretty special.”

“So are you, wife,” Isabelle says, kissing her again.

 

* * *

 

“I enjoy traveling, but I hate airports,” Victoria mumbles as they stand in line to pick up their tickets.

Isabelle squeezes her hand reassuringly. “It’ll be over soon.”

“I know,” Victoria sighs. “It’s just severely annoying.”

“I don’t think anyone really _likes_ airports,” Isabelle points out. “Maybe children, but children like everything.”

“Some of them, anyway,” Victoria says, glaring at a screaming toddler a couple of queues down. “I’m glad that one’s on another flight.”

Isabelle nods. “Glad we won’t ever have to worry about dealing with that firsthand.”

“Ugh, yes,” Victoria says. “I’m sure some of them are fine, but I have no desire to take that risk.” A bit softer, she adds, “Thank you.”

“For not wanting to procreate?” teases Isabelle.

“Well, yes,” Victoria says, shrugging. “And not caring about all of that - traditional stuff.”

“Ah. Yeah, well, that’s so dull. I’d rather make things up as we go.” Isabelle grins. “It’s more interesting that way.”

“You couldn’t be boring even if you tried,” Victoria promises.

“Flatterer. You’re just saying that because of tonight,” Isabelle says playfully.

“I’m saying that because I mean it,” Victoria retorts. “Because I don’t seem to run out of sappy nonsense to tell you.”

Isabelle pulls her in for a quick kiss. “No one would ever believe it.”

“I’m good with that,” Victoria shrugs. “Come on, we’re up next.”

Everything between the ticket counter and the gate goes smoothly - their suitcases are checked, the security check doesn’t take too long, the line at the airport Starbucks isn’t outrageous - and soon they’re sitting in two of the chairs, their carry-ons on either side of them to discourage strangers from getting too close.

“Another reason I knew I wanted to spend my life with you,” Victoria murmurs, “is that I can travel with you and not get tired of your company.”

Isabelle chuckles. “That’s sweet. And I’m honored.”

“You should be,” Victoria smirks, leaning her head against Isabelle’s shoulder. “Are you going to mind if I nap on you for most of the flight?”

“Not at all. I can’t guarantee I won’t be doing some of the same.” Isabelle smirks. “Can I pet your hair or is that too sappy?”

“Nobody we know is looking,” Victoria says, which is her way of saying yes.

So Isabelle reaches up to run a hand through Victoria’s hair. “I like doing this for you.”

“It feels pretty nice,” Victoria hums.

“Good. You should feel nice.”

“You sure you’re okay your sister couldn’t come?” Victoria asks softly.

Isabelle shrugs. “I mean, I understand. When Mom got sick she basically had to drop everything to move back and take care of her because Dad couldn’t do everything. And Mom would’ve flipped shit if Jane tried to leave, so. Here we are.” She squeezes Victoria’s hand. “I’ve got a new family now.”

“You do,” Victoria agrees, squeezing back. “I love you.”

“I love you too. I’m glad we’re just a pair of career lesbians with our rats,” says Isabelle affectionately. “I hope they’re getting on with Mack alright.”

“I think they'll manage," Victoria says fondly.

It’s something like a ten-hour flight, and they do end up spending most of it napping on each other. They’re seated next to an older gentleman reading a newspaper, not bothering them, and it’s all Victoria can do to keep from toasting him with her overpriced bottle of water, because that could be much worse. He just lets them have their space without fussing.

Then it’s off the plane, through the airport, into a taxi, and to the hotel, during which they’re both waiting for their second winds to kick in. Isabelle can’t help but find it hot when Victoria speaks French with their cab driver, though. “Don’t suppose there’s a chance you know some more interesting words?” she murmurs.

Victoria raises an eyebrow. “What, you mean dirty talk?” she teases.

“I wouldn’t object,” purrs Isabelle.

“Even if you wouldn’t actually know what I was saying?” Victoria asks.

Isabelle shrugs. “Yeah. It’s just hot listening to you.”

“ _Merci beaucoup_ ,” Victoria murmurs.

That makes Isabelle laugh. “I shouldn’t have mentioned this, should I?”

“ _Si vous l’aimez, vous l’aimez_ ,” Victoria shrugs, smirking.

“You’d better hold that for the hotel, unless you want me to do unspeakable things to you in this cab,” mutters Isabelle with a grin.

“Speak them,” Victoria whispers. “He’s not listening.”

“You’ve gotten bold,” replies Isabelle. “Asking for it in public, I didn’t think I’d see the day.”

Victoria shrugs. “Special occasion.”

“Well, that’s true,” says Isabelle, but just in case she leans in close to whisper in Victoria’s ear.

 

* * *

 

“Goddamn,” says Isabelle, staring blatantly after Victoria comes out of the bathroom.

Victoria tosses her hair, because she knows she looks hot. “Thanks,” she says.

“Come over here so I can kiss you.”

“Oh, yes, ma’am,” Victoria purrs, sauntering across the room and immediately pushing Isabelle back on the bed to straddle her.

Isabelle pulls her down for a long kiss. “I like the sound of that.”

Victoria moans into Isabelle’s mouth. “Tell me what else you like,” she says. “I want to be very sweet tonight.”

“I think I’d like you to kiss me in as many places as you can,” murmurs Isabelle.

“I’d like to do that,” Victoria replies, rubbing against Isabelle’s shoulder before kissing her there gently.

Isabelle sighs happily. “You’re sweet.”

“Thank you,” Victoria whispers, trailing kisses up Isabelle’s neck. “Wife.”

“That’s so nice to hear.”

“Isn’t it?” Victoria says, kissing Isabelle’s jaw. “It’s even nicer to know.”

“Yes,” hums Isabelle. “I didn’t think I’d get to.”

“I didn’t think I’d want to until you,” Victoria says.

“Mm, there’s also that.” Isabelle smiles up at her. “You’re just special.”

‘Thank you,” Victoria declares. She moves her kisses back down Isabelle’s throat, over her collarbone. “I think I knew from the beginning with you.”

“Did you? I don’t know that I did. Although,” adds Isabelle, grinning, “you made a good argument when you did that thing with your tongue the first time-”

“Well, maybe not the very beginning,” Victoria teases, “but pretty soon. That little voice in my head kept telling me to let you get away with things I would hate otherwise.”

“Like what?”

“Our first date at a shitty chain restaurant diner,” Victoria says. “The terrible flirting.”

That makes Isabelle laugh. “I’ll have you know I’ve gotten dozens of women with that.”

“Well, I’ve ignored dozens of women because of that,” Victoria counters. “But I had an instinct that I shouldn’t ignore you.”

“Thank goodness for instinct,” replies Isabelle. “And you, I actually wanted to do the sappy relationship stuff with you.”

“I never wondered when I was going to get tired of you,” Victoria muses, kissing Isabelle’s cheek. “And believe me, I wondered that about most of my girlfriends before. It was usually stupid things that started setting me off, but they usually did.”

Isabelle smiles. “And I haven’t gotten tired of you either. I always did worry about that, a bit.”

“I also never worried that,” Victoria smirks. “I mean, that you’d get tired of me. I wondered sometimes how you didn’t, but I never worried.”

“Aw. That’s touching,” teases Isabelle. “I couldn’t get tired of you if I tried, wife.”

“Likewise,” Victoria says, nipping fondly at Isabelle’s neck. “Wife.”

Isabelle tilts her neck back for more. “That’s nice.”

So for a little while, Victoria just focuses on kissing and nipping and gently soothing spots all over, watching Isabelle’s skin turn pretty colors. She hums appreciatively, stroking Isabelle’s hair.

For her part, Isabelle squirms underneath Victoria, making happy noises. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

“Thank _you_ ,” Victoria replies, rubbing her whole body against Isabelle’s.

“I’m yours, you know.”

“And I’m yours.” Victoria grins. “Wife.”

“You’d think I’d get tired of hearing that, but no,” sighs Isabelle.

“Good thing I don’t get tired of saying it, either,” Victoria chuckles.

Isabelle kisses her again. “You’re some kind of magic.”

“Let’s order room service,” Victoria says suddenly. “And while we wait for it, I can do some of that kissing you asked for.”

“Ooh, okay,” Isabelle replies, grinning. “That sounds fancy.”

Victoria rolls off of Isabelle and reaches for the bedside menu and phone. When she places the order in French, Isabelle moans theatrically and pulls her in for another kiss as soon as she hangs up the phone.

“Is that how it is,” Victoria murmurs, resuming her earlier place on top of Isabelle languidly. “ _Je voudrais vous embrasser et vous faire gémir plus_.”

“Jesus christ,” says Isabelle. “I don’t know what that means but _yes_.”

“ _Vous êtes ridicule, mais mignon_ ,” Victoria hums, sliding down Isabelle’s body to start pressing kisses to her chest.

Isabelle arches her back to meet Victoria’s mouth. “I think I heard ridiculous in there somewhere, but even that sounds hot.”

Victoria chuckles. “ _Merci beaucoup_ ,” she says, pulling one of Isabelle’s breasts free and sucking on her nipple.

Squirming, Isabelle hisses in delight. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said anything,” she jokes. “Now you know my weakness.”

“I know all of your weaknesses,” Victoria declares, nipping at Isabelle’s breast.

“Good point,” Isabelle gasps. “They mostly have - oh! - to do with you.”

“That’s a pretty good thing, I think,” Victoria declares. “Wife.”

Isabelle sighs. “It is, wife. You know me better than anyone.”

Victoria moves her attention to the other breast. “I’m deeply honored, you know.”

“So am I. I know you don’t open yourself up to just anybody.”

“As a general rule, I open myself up to just about nobody,” Victoria says, inching further down Isabelle’s body and kissing as she goes. “I didn’t realize I was waiting for you, but I guess I was.”

“That’s flattering,” murmurs Isabelle. “Same to you, I think.”

“This is truly disgusting and I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Victoria declares before she starts kissing over Isabelle’s stomach.

“Neither would I. You make me so...so happy. It’s ridiculous.”

“And you’re so beautiful,” Victoria whispers, kissing Isabelle’s hips.

“God,” whines Isabelle. “You’re sweet.”

“So are you,” Victoria murmurs, looking up coyly.

That makes Isabelle snort. “I mean, if you say so.”

“You taste sweet, anyway,” Victoria says, kissing Isabelle’s thighs.

“Thanks,” Isabelle sighs. “Glad you like it.”

“I do,” Victoria promises.

“Could speed it up a little if you want, though,” Isabelle teases. “Not that I don’t like the attention, but.”

“I’m taking my time,” Victoria counters. “It’s fun exploring your body.”

“Oh, well, I can’t argue with that then,” says Isabelle with a smirk.

“Besides, we have time,” Victoria continues. “Nothing to do but be together.”

Isabelle’s about to reply when there’s a knock on the door. “Well, you’d better get that,” she says, eyes gleaming. “I’m not in any shape to do it.”

“You certainly aren’t,” Victoria says smugly, jumping off the bed and draping a bathrobe around herself before she answers the door, pays for and accepts the order (cheesecake), and returns to the bed. “I figured we’d keep the sweet theme going.”

“Fine by me.” Isabelle props herself up on her elbows.

They polish off the cheesecake, only stopping to kiss a few times, and then Isabelle says, “Now, I think you were in the middle of something.”

“Damn right,” Victoria laughs, and she pulls Isabelle’s panties off before moving in to kiss her clit.

“That’s it,” says Isabelle, settling herself on her back. “Just like that.”

And Victoria listens, going slow but not too slow and very sweet, licking and kissing and sucking and listening to Isabelle’s reactions, gently holding her hips and just savoring this moment.

Isabelle’s giving plenty of reactions, moving around just slightly and moaning and whimpering. “Goddamn,” she gasps, “that’s nice.”

“Good,” Victoria murmurs, pausing to grin.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” Victoria says. And with that she’s returning her attentions to Isabelle, making sure she feels just as good as she possibly can.

And since she’s already pretty worked up, it doesn’t take long before Isabelle orgasms spectacularly. “God,” she whines once she’s calmed. “You’re so good.”

“I try,” Victoria says smugly, moving onto her side and wrapping around Isabelle.

Isabelle reaches up to pet Victoria’s hair. “Just give me a minute and then I can return the favor.”

“Take your time, darling.”

 

* * *

 

Victoria’s reading by the fire in the lodge’s common area when Isabelle saunters in, accidentally dripping a bit. “Great snow out there,” she announces cheerfully, “but damn it’s cold.”

“Well, yes, that happens when you’re in snow,” Victoria snarks. “I imagine you could stand to warm up a bit?”

“I really could.” Isabelle smirks. “Wanna come help me with that, wife?”

“Oh, I took a hot bath earlier,” Victoria says. “But if you wanted to clean off, I’d dry your hair.”

“Well, well, princess,” Isabelle teases. “Aren’t we fancy. But yeah, that sounds nice.”

“Have you seen that tub?” Victoria asks, easing off the couch. “I had to test it out. That could be a joint effort tomorrow.”

“I could go for that,” says Isabelle, nodding. “C’mon, let’s go?”

Victoria slips her hand into Isabelle’s. “Let’s,” she says. “What would you say if I told you I felt like being a princess after all?”

Isabelle grins. “I’d say I’d be more than happy to fulfill that, your highness.”

“Then I’d like you to be quick about showering so we can get to the fun things sooner,” Victoria says.

“I can do that for you,” purrs Isabelle.

She makes good on that promise and soon they’re both undressed as Victoria tends to Isabelle’s hair and pauses to kiss her neck. “I can’t imagine what’s enjoyable about skiing,” Victoria admits, “but I’m sure you look wonderful doing it.”

Isabelle hums and leans back against Victoria. “I mean, you don’t like anything that requires too much effort,” she says playfully. “But thanks.”

“I like plenty of things that require effort,” Victoria retorts. “Just not that sort of effort, if I can help it. I like to save my energy for things that are more immediately rewarding.”

“Fair enough,” Isabelle replies with a laugh. “Like, I’m guessing, sex.”

“That would be one of them,” Victoria says with a shrug.

“Then shall we?”

“Yes, please,” Victoria murmurs, flouncing over to the bed and spreading herself out.

Isabelle follows her, pressing her body against Victoria’s while she kisses her lips. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Victoria hums. “You’re really good at making me feel gorgeous.”

“I’m certainly trying to,” says Isabelle. “What do you feel like?”

“Like I want to be even more spoiled than I already am,” Victoria says sweetly.

“Mmm, alright.” Isabelle presses a kiss to her shoulder. “I can arrange that.”

“Do please elaborate,” Victoria murmurs.

“I think I’d like to take my time exploring you like you did last night,” hums Isabelle.

“I’m yours,” Victoria says, stretching out even more to facilitate this.

Isabelle sighs happily and kisses across Victoria’s collarbone. “Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Victoria whispers, threading her fingers through Isabelle’s hair.

Isabelle nuzzles Victoria’s shoulder and gives her another kiss on the lips before moving down to her breasts. “I love you, wife,” she says before biting Victoria playfully.

Victoria shivers. “I love you too, wife,” she says, clutching Isabelle’s hair a bit tighter.

“Oh, that’s nice,” murmurs Isabelle. “You like that?” She nips again.

“I - _fuck_ \- I really do,” Victoria exclaims. “You’re incredible.”

“So are you,” says Isabelle before she sucks Victoria’s breast into her mouth.

Victoria doesn’t even say anything to that, she just shudders and groans.

Isabelle just stays there for a while, then switches to the other breast, enjoying Victoria’s noises. “You taste good,” she murmurs once she’s done.

“I’m glad,” Victoria smirks. “I really like when we can do this.”

“So do I.” Isabelle reaches to run her hands down Victoria’s side as she kisses across her stomach.

This makes Victoria’s hips jerk up impatiently. “Tease.”

Grinning, Isabelle replies, “It’s not like I didn’t warn you.”

“I guess that’s true,” Victoria sighs.

“And you’re enjoying this,” says Isabelle, running her teeth over Victoria’s skin.

“Also true, loath as I am to admit it,” Victoria says.

Isabelle chuckles. “I’ll get there,” she says, moving down to kiss her thighs.

“You’d better,” Victoria groans.

“Have I ever not?”

“No,” Victoria concedes. “You always follow through. Eventually.”

“Damn right.” Isabelle takes this opportunity to lick lightly up Victoria’s folds.

Victoria whimpers. “God, that’s so…”

Isabelle makes a satisfied noise and does it again, firmer this time.

“ _Yes_ ,” Victoria shouts. She feels remarkably worked up already.

“Mm, that’s pretty,” says Isabelle, flicking her tongue around Victoria’s clit.

“ _You’re_ pretty,” Victoria retorts breathlessly before she thinks better of it.

Isabelle laughs at that and replies, “Not as pretty as you” before sucking her clit into her mouth.

This pattern keeps up for a while, teasing and kissing and being generally more playful than anyone else would be allowed to see them, until finally Victoria comes with a shriek and promptly flops down into the bed. “I don’t wanna move.”

“You don’t have to,” says Isabelle, gently kissing her way back up until she can nestle under Victoria’s chin. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“So much for those dinner reservations,” Victoria says, laughing weakly and wrapping her arm around Isabelle.

Shrugging half-heartedly, Isabelle replies, “Eh, fuck it. We can order in. I’m comfortable right here with my wife.”

“Sounds nice,” Victoria agrees. “I order, you find something that will pass for decent so we don’t scandalize the delivery person?”

“But scandal is so much fun,” snickers Isabelle. “Sounds good.” She strokes Victoria’s cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too, wife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _merci beaucoup_ ; "thank you very much"  
>  _si vous l’aimez, vous l’aimez_ ; "if you like it, you like it"  
>  _je voudrais vous embrasser et vous faire gémir plus_ ; "I want to kiss you and make you moan more"  
>  _vous êtes ridicule, mais mignon_ ; "you are ridiculous, but cute"


	21. everything’s gonna be alright, tears will stop, we will dry the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karen refuses to leave Kara alone while they're still dealing with the aftermath of the dog incident; this leads to the natural place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows [silly me, look what I did again, I found what I want is what I cannot have](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/14460901).

That first night, right after Autumn goes missing, Karen is getting ready to sleep on the couch in Kara’s apartment when Kara, in a size XXL David Bowie t-shirt that was a gift from Darcy, appears in the hallway and oh-so-softly says, “There’s plenty of room in my room. I mean, if you…”

“Yeah,” Karen says, jumping up immediately and going to grab Kara’s hand. “Whatever you want, okay?”

There’s half a foot between them in bed at first, but in the middle of the night Kara starts crying in her sleep. It doesn’t take much thought for Karen to scoot closer and wrap around her, and the tears stop as quick as they started.

The second night, even though Kara just recently got back from dinner with Raina who may or may not be her girlfriend (Karen has yet to ask about the details), Karen snuggles up right away.

“Thank you,” Kara whispers.

“Of course, hon,” Karen replies, squeezing Kara’s hands.

The third night follows what’s been a very long day. Garthan had been telling stories about his dog in the office, which made Kara think about _her_ dog, and then some bleach-blond kid in an IKEA shirt was sitting near them and Skye in the food court at lunch. He kept on staring at them, enough that Skye finally yelled, “Look, either you’re a Nazi fuck who just hasn’t been thrown out on his ass yet or you’re a creep who doesn’t know how to coexist with women, so either way I’m gonna tell you to get out of our sight before I have to decimate you.” He scattered before he explained which of those categories he fell into, but that still left Kara self-conscious and upset.

There’s no hesitation when Karen holds Kara face-to-face, not spooning like they’ve been doing, and even less when she brushes her knuckles over Kara’s cheek familiarly. She whispers, “‘Night, sweetie,” and kisses Kara’s forehead.

There’s just a split second before, impulsively but all too cautious, Kara tips her chin up and kisses Karen on the mouth. Her eyes are squeezed shut and her hands stay at her sides, which just adds to her hesitant aura.

Karen kisses back instinctively, not even feeling surprised (after _Fury Road_ , kisses are nothing uncommon between them, after all) but not wanting to push, either. She lets Kara guide the kiss, she lets her break it, but she’s smiling gently when Kara finally opens her eyes. “Hey,” she says softly, taking Kara’s hands. “D’you wanna do more of that?”

Kara bites her lip. “Yeah,” she says. “I mean, if you wanna.” That’s important, they both know, that mutuality. Even if this seems like it should have happened a long time ago, like it was sort of inevitable, that’s important.

“Yeah, silly, I’d like that,” Karen says, leaning her forehead against Kara’s. “Is this okay with…”

“Raina, you mean?” Kara supplies. She shrugs, but her voice is the surest it’s been in days. “Raina doesn’t really care about stuff like that. I mean, if she did I’d be _her_ woman on the side, right?” She chuckles. “I’m pretty sure Raina has been expecting me to kiss you for real for a while anyway.”

“That so?” Karen teases. “Is that just ‘cause of Cheedo and Dag?”

“I’m pretty sure she thinks Cheedo and Dag were ‘cause of the fact that our kissing was inevitable to her,” Kara says. “I dunno, I mean, it’s just like - she was Toast ‘cause she just _knows_ stuff, I guess?”

“D’you have, like… feelings?” Karen asks. “For me?”

Kara shrugs. “You’re my best friend and yeah, I’ve thought about kissing you sometimes, I guess,” she says. “Feelings-feelings? I don’t even know. I just like you however I like you. Is that weird?”

“Not really,” Karen says. “Not to me. I mean, and I’m pretty much right there with you.”

“Could we maybe kiss more, then?” Kara asks hopefully. “That makes more sense.”

“It really does,” Karen agrees, and this time she leans in to kiss Kara. Their legs tangle together lazily, still under the covers, but their hips don’t touch yet. One thing at a time. (This is probably also affected by the fact that Karen doesn’t want to scare Kara and the fact that Kara just realized that she doesn’t actually know if Karen’s kissed girls before.)

They kiss until they’re breathless, Kara falling back against her pillow with an apologetic giggle. “Damn,” she murmurs.

Questioningly, Karen slips her hand under the hem of Kara’s nightshirt. “You wanna…?”

Kara deliberates for a second, then nods. “Only if I get to take yours off, too,” she says. It’s not that they haven’t seen each other naked before, because they _definitely_ have, it’s not a shyness thing, it’s just that much as she appreciates the distraction she doesn’t want to be a pillow queen (a term she learned from Raina recently, although in the context of “don’t worry, if you were being a pillow queen I’d tell you”).

So Karen pushes up to sitting and yanks her t-shirt off, then nods for Kara to do the same. Once they’re both topless they start kissing again, pressing against each other as they fall back to the bed. “You’re really soft,” Kara whispers.

“No, you are,” Karen retorts playfully, pulling Kara closer with a hand pressed to her back. “It okay if I kiss your neck some?”

Kara nods. “I like that,” she agrees, angling her chin to give Karen more room.

“An’ if I…” Instead of finishing the sentence, Karen gently pushes Kara onto her back, angles over her as she starts to pay attention to Kara’s neck.

“Yeah,” Kara breathes, “yeah, s’fine.” More than fine, given the way one of her hands clutches at her sheets while the other strokes along Karen’s ribcage.

Karen hums appreciatively. “Good,” she says as she starts to make her way over Kara’s shoulders. “I do anything you don’t like, just…”

“ _Kýrie_ ,” Kara says. “Is the safeword I have with Raina, anyway.”

“Like, _Kýrie_ , _eléison_ , like church?” Karen asks, tilting her head.

Kara nods. “Means ‘sir,’ technically,” she explains. “It’s supposed to be a joke, kinda.”

“That’s cute,” Karen says. “You’re cute.”

“Thanks,” Kara replies, smirking just a little.

They’re mostly quiet as Karen kisses all over Kara’s collarbone, strokes over her skin, but when her hand drifts down toward Kara’s panties and she looks at her like a question, Kara shakes her head. “Not right now?” she says, sounding embarrassed. “I don’t think I’m in a good place for that while…”

Karen understands. “Okay,” she says. “Keep kissin’ then?”

Kara nods, eyes twinkling as she swings her leg over Karen’s hips and flips their positions. “My turn to treat,” she says.


	22. baby it’s okay to fall for me, gotta give in, gotta gotta give in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessica comes home to find Trish waiting for her, in need of some distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're sorry about not including Luke. Don't worry, the three of them have a very fulfilling sex life! We just can't write sex involving boys.

“Honey, I’m home,” Jessica calls sarcastically as she opens the door to their apartment. She’s expecting Trish to be watching TV, or maybe starting on dinner, but it takes Jessica a minute to find her, until finally she checks the bedroom. Trish is laid out like a cheesecake photo on the bed propped up on her side, wearing a blindingly yellow satin lingerie set… and her simple ribbon collar.

Jessica swallows. So that’s the plan for tonight. Trish does this when she’s had really shitty days, when she needs something to focus on and someone to take care of. And Luke’s already gone to his shift at the bar, so it’s her tonight. “Hey,” she says, softening her voice a little. “Bad day?”

Trish bites her lip, nodding. “Sometimes people suck,” she whispers.

“Yeah,” agrees Jessica, shrugging off her jacket and tossing it onto a chair (she’ll put it away later, Trish needs her more right now). “Gimme a sec to get all my shit off, okay?”

“Of course,” Trish says. Cautiously, she rolls onto her back, still posing a little.

Jessica tosses her bag onto the floor, then kicks her shoes into the corner of the room and reaches to undo the button on her jeans. “That’s some bright-ass yellow,” she says, because she can’t do anything without a quip. “You skin a highlighter or something?”

Trish rolls her eyes. “Fleur of England might have skinned one, but I didn’t ask them.”

“You look good, though.” Jessica actually kind of hates lingerie - it’s stupid and pointless when the entire point is to get the other person’s clothes off as fast as possible, but she knows Trish likes looking nice and she knows Luke likes it, so she plays along with Trish.

Predictably, the compliment makes Trish blush. “Thanks,” she murmurs. “It’s cheerful.”

Jessica strips off the rest of her clothes and smirks, climbing up onto the bed. “So how are we doing this?” she asks. “Sitting up, laying down?”

Trish shrugs. “Your call,” she says meaningfully.

“Okay,” says Jessica, first sliding up Trish’s body to kiss her hungrily.

“Hey,” Trish hums happily, reaching to thread her hand through Jessica’s hair.

“Hey,” echoes Jessica, moving to nip at Trish’s neck, above her collar. “I’m gonna sit up in a minute, but I wanted to do this first.”

“Thanks,” Trish says. “‘S nice.”

“Yeah,” murmurs Jessica, sucking at the top of her breast to try to leave a mark. (It won’t take much - Trish bruises easily.) “Wish I could do this all over your neck too, maybe it’d make those creeps stop hitting on you all the time.”

Trish giggles. “I’m afraid that might be my lot to bear,” she says dramatically, “but say it again?”

“I said,” Jessica purrs, pausing to worry a spot on Trish’s collarbone, “I want every creep who walks into that place to know how taken you are.”

“God,” Trish moans, “I really am.”

Jessica runs her hands over Trish’s body fondly, then keeps kissing and sucking at her other breast for a while, not taking the bra off just yet. Trish likes being teased.

“You’re so much sweeter than you let anyone see,” Trish murmurs, rolling against Jessica.

“Gross,” groans Jessica, but she sucks at Trish’s nipple for a few seconds before replying, “If you tell anyone, you know what has to happen.” It’s an old joke.

“Remind me,” Trish says huskily, grinning.

“No one ever finds your body,” says Jessica with an answering smirk. Then she keeps kissing, toward Trish’s stomach.

“You’re so vindictive,” Trish sighs. “Good thing you’re so cute.”

Jessica rolls her eyes and suddenly shifts so she’s got her face at Trish’s panties, starting to mouth at her through them.

“God,” Trish says again. “That’s…”

Jessica laughs and keeps it up for a couple minutes, until Trish is squirming and whimpering, and then she pauses to say “Alright, my turn” with an evil smirk.

Trish makes a shocked little noise, but this is what she wanted, really. “How would you like me?” she asks softly.

“Hang on a sec.” Jessica sits up and scoots over so that her back is against the headboard, with her legs spread. “Alright, c’mon over,” she says.

“Okay,” Trish says, turning onto her stomach and nuzzling up to Jessica’s thigh. “You’re lovely.”

“Ugh,” says Jessica, but her tone is fond, and she reaches down to pet Trish’s hair. “Take as long as you want, but you’re getting me off at least twice.”

Trish nods solemnly. “I wanna,” she says, and she leans in to kiss Jessica’s folds, taking her time about it but almost playfully.

Jessica sighs and digs her hand into Trish’s hair, not gripping really, but holding on. “Should’ve known better,” she murmurs. “You’ll be a little shit at every opportunity.”

“I learned it from you,” Trish replies sweetly.

Snorting, Jessica says, “Yeah, I know.” She tugs at Trish’s hair, just enough to pull her a little closer.

Trish whimpers, mouthing gently over Jessica’s center and nipping every few seconds. That’s nice, it’s always been nice, feeling close in that way.

“Fuck yes,” gasps Jessica, leaning into Trish’s mouth. “Trish…”

“Yeah?” Trish murmurs. “What can I do?”

“Just...more?”

Trish nods, immediately starting to work toward that goal. Jessica feeling good is one of her favorite things to witness, after all. It’s something that always makes her feel better herself.

Jessica moans. “Shit, yeah, that’s good.”

“Good,” Trish echoes softly, dragging teeth and tongue across Jessica’s flesh intently.

That makes Jessica yelp and basically start humping Trish’s face. “God, _fuck…_ ” She’s never quiet when she comes and this is no exception - she’s almost screaming.

Trish keeps at it until Jessica stills, then lifts her head just enough to smile. “You’re pretty.”

“God,” pants Jessica once she’s calmed, “do you have to be all romantic and shit after I just humped your face?” But she strokes Trish’s hair, which is her way of saying _thank you_.

“You looked pretty,” Trish defends. “Sounded pretty, too.”

Jessica snorts. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure the neighbors enjoyed it too.”

“The neighbors can deal with it,” Trish shrugs.

“You’re welcome!” Jessica yells, for good measure. Then she grins. “Encore?”

Trish tilts her head. “Still owe you another one,” she murmurs, moving back in to kiss Jessica.

“Damn,” murmurs Jessica, still holding onto Trish’s hair. “You’re fucking great at this, you know that?”

“You’ve said a few times,” Trish says, looking up with a cheeky grin but only for a second.

“Well, you are,” repeats Jessica, nudging her back to it.

“Wanna,” Trish mumbles, going to suck on Jessica’s clit.

Jessica hisses “Yeah, shit” and tightens her grip. She moves her legs, giving Trish better access.

“God,” Trish hums, nosing even closer and grabbing Jessica’s hips. This really is one of her favorite things in the world.

Moaning, Jessica reaches to dig the fingernails of her other hand into Trish’s shoulder. “Fuck, that’s good.” Trish laughs delightedly, lapping at Jessica. “Goddamn, yes.”

Trish’s gaze drifts upward, inquisitive and almost expectant.

“Fuck me?” Jessica asks, voice quiet despite the harshness of the command.

“Yeah,” Trish whispers, waiting just a second before dipping her tongue into Jessica and starting to search for her g-spot.

Jessica’s cry is way too loud, but she doesn’t care, and she follows it up with “ _Fuck yes.”_

Thus encouraged, Trish focuses so intently on Jessica, the taste of her and the feel of her and the _everything_ of her, that nothing else seems to matter. Which, honestly, is kind of the point.

And when Jessica comes again, she’s just as loud as the first time. “Shit,” she groans once she’s calmed. “You’re so fucking…”

“What?” Trish asks, wide-eyed.

“Fuck, I dunno,” gasps Jessica. “You’re...you’re good.”

Trish beams. “I try to be,” she says.

“Yeah,” murmurs Jessica, petting Trish’s hair. “I know. You are.”

For a minute Trish just rests there and soaks up the feeling of Jessica’s hand in her hair, calm and steady. It’s nice. It’s really nice. “And you’re still really pretty,” she finally murmurs.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one saying all the postcoital compliments and shit,” teases Jessica.

“If you wanna,” Trish says casually.

Jessica chuckles. “Well, you’ve got me all over your face and that’s pretty hot.”

“Glad you think so,” Trish grins.

“I really do,” says Jessica, pulling her up for a kiss.

“Mm,” Trish says. “I like making you smile.”

Jessica rolls her eyes, but kisses her again. “It’s a rare occurrence.”

“In general,” Trish amends. “I happen to be pretty good at it.”

“Yeah,” Jessica says fondly. “Hey, so it’s your turn now.”

“My turn for what?” Trish asks, blinking.

“An orgasm. I mean, if you want one.”

Trish shrugs, suddenly shy.

“You deserve it,” adds Jessica. “But if you don’t want it, that’s okay.”

Trish bites her lip. “I do,” she says softly.

“Okay,” replies Jessica. “On your back, then.”

“Okay,” Trish repeats, pushing up and arranging herself.

Jessica leans over Trish and reaches to undo her bra, tossing it aside, then slips off her panties. “I like you better like this,” she says with a smirk.

“Thanks, I think?” Trish murmurs.

“It’s a compliment,” replies Jessica, leaning to take one of Trish’s nipples in her mouth.

“Thanks,” Trish repeats. “You’re really… god, that…”

Jessica makes a satisfied noise while still suckling for a minute, then turns her attentions to the other breast.

“God, Jess,” Trish breathes out.

Jessica lets go long enough to smirk, then bites at Trish’s breast instead. She likes trying to make Trish get as loud as she can.

“ _Shit_!” Trish yelps, ineffectually pawing at Jessica.

That makes Jessica laugh and kiss the same spot, then press more hard kisses to Trish’s chest before continuing down her body. “Having fun?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Trish pants. “You’re rough but I like it.”

“I know,” says Jessica, and continues kissing and nipping her way to Trish’s center. “I wouldn’t if you didn’t.”

Trish nods. “It’s nice,” she says. “Really…”

Jessica takes the opportunity to interrupt her by licking at Trish enthusiastically.

“God, yeah,” Trish squeals, digging her heels into the mattress.

Jessica keeps at it for a while, enjoying Trish’s noises, before switching to suck and bite at her clit.

“More of _that_!” Trish shrieks, nodding frantically.

Laughing, Jessica obliges, rolling her tongue around it.

“Shit,” Trish yells. Her fingernails rake across Jessica’s shoulder, her eyes squeeze shut.

Jessica sucks Trish’s clit into her mouth and doesn’t stop until Trish wails out her climax, body shuddering between Jessica and the mattress. Trish can put on a hell of a show when she orgasms if it’s deserved, and right now it clearly is.

Once she’s done, Jessica gives her a few last licks and then glances up. “Hey,” she says.

“Hey,” Trish sighs happily. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” Sliding up to kiss Trish on the mouth, Jessica adds, “Feel better now?”

Trish nods. “You always manage to make me feel better.”

“Good.” Jessica reaches up to pet Trish’s hair again, almost absently. “Anything else you need? A drink, maybe?”

“Water wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Trish says.

Jessica snorts. “I meant booze, but okay.” She gets off of the bed and then pauses at the door. “You know I’ve got you.”

“I know,” Trish whispers. “Thank you.”

Once Jessica is back with Trish’s water (and a glass of Jack Daniels for herself), she sits down on the bed. “You wanna talk about it? Keep in mind I’m emotionally stunted and shit at empathy.”

Trish smirks, nodding for Jessica to lean back so she can lean _on_ her. “Like I said, people suck,” she says. “I wanna think the best of them, but when the world is being shit, a lot of them tend to keep that trend up.”

Jessica laughs, tipping back her glass. “Don’t I know it,” she grunts. “Sorry you have to get caught in it.”

“Could be worse,” Trish sighs. “I could have done the crappy local TV thing my mom fancied and have had to play nice on camera, not just to a couple of drunk assholes at Applebee’s.”

“God, I’m glad you didn’t,” says Jessica. “That would’ve been fucking awful.”

“It really would have been,” Trish declares. “At least here I can just pretend my manager needs me if I absolutely have to get away.”

“Yeah. We’re lucky, or some shit.”

“Some shit,” Trish repeats, nodding. “Hunter might have insinuated he gave unhygienic beverages to a couple of the worst assholes, too.”

Jessica snorts. “I guess it’s good he likes blondes, then.”

“Yeah, it has its more useful applications.”

“He ever pulls anything, I’ll come after him with a wrench,” Jessica promises.

“A wrench specifically?” Trish giggles. “You’re adorable.”

“Gross,” says Jessica, rolling her eyes but pulling Trish closer.

“It’s not like I’m calling you adorable in public,” Trish defends. “This should be safe.”

Jessica chuckles. “Yeah, yeah.” She lets her fingers circle over Trish’s shoulder, not on purpose. “Hey, we could order pizza. Luke’s not gonna be back till after midnight.”

“Pizza sounds good,” Trish agrees. “But then it’s only fair if I get back in my lingerie for him, too.”

“Whatever,” Jessica says with a shrug. “I won’t complain.”


	23. ‘cause we got our own plan and we can’t slow down, we’re wide awake in a sleepy town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Skye's birthday, Bobbi lets her see what it's like to be in charge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows [a dream needs believing to taste like the real thing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/16943364).

“Okay,” says Skye, “how about you get on the bed, sitting on this corner?” She pats the opposite corner from where Jemma’s sitting, against the headboard. “Baby,” she adds, smirking at Bobbi. They’d agreed on the pet name beforehand, but that doesn’t mean she’s not going to be a bit of an asshole about it.

Bobbi rolls her eyes, promptly sitting cross-legged in the spot because like fuck is she going to kneel. “You’re getting a kick out of this.”

Skye winks. “Maaaaybe.” She grabs the spreader bar. “Honey, you ready?”

“Yes, please,” Jemma says eagerly, leaning forward with a big smile.

“Alright.” Skye grabs the bar (it’s really just sturdy black fabric) and stares at it a minute before hesitantly working on velcroing one loop and then the other around Jemma’s ankles. “Wrists now?” she asks. There are loops for those too, on this one.

Jemma offers them, wiggling a little to get comfortable. “Thank you,” she purrs.

“You’re welcome, honey,” murmurs Skye, taking one wrist and kissing it before fastening the cuff around it, then repeating her actions with the other. “How’s she looking?” she calls to Bobbi.

“Luscious as always,” Bobbi says, smirking right at Jemma for the way she knows it’s going to make Jemma blush and wiggle (as well as she can with her arms velcroed in place between her ankles).

“Wanna touch?” asks Skye, grinning evilly.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Bobbi replies, one eyebrow arched because she knows this is a test.

“Alright, just a second.” Skye grabs the gag and says to Jemma, “Open up.”

“Love you,” Jemma says quickly before she lets her jaw drop. She’s really taken to this.

Skye smiles. “Good girl.” She strokes along Jemma’s cheek before slipping the O-ring into her mouth and then fastening the gag behind her. “How’s that, baby?” she asks Bobbi.

Bobbi swallows heavily. “Definitely nice,” she admits, because, well, it is.

“Good,” says Skye. “Because if you wanna touch, I’m gonna have to take something else.” She holds up the blindfold, eyebrow raised.

Does Skye actually understand how much trust this requires? Maybe. Bobbi nods, lifting her chin. “I’ll compromise,” she says.

“Okay.” Skye says. “You know what to say if you wanna back out.”

“Yup,” Bobbi says, somehow almost defiant.

Skye snorts and says, “Alright, ready?”

“Yup,” Bobbi repeats with a smirk.

“Thanks, baby,” hums Skye as she fastens the blindfold in place. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Bobbi says, a bit softer. “I mean, it’s weird. But. Yeah.”

Jemma giggles, mumbling what Skye can translate as “Yes, but just go with it, silly.” Then Skye laughs too. “You look nice. You wanna kiss?”

Bobbi tosses her hair (which is somewhat less effective than usual). “Let’s kiss.”

“Okay.” Skye leans forward to kiss her, more gentle than usual. She knows Bobbi’s a little out of her depth and she doesn’t want to push her into anything too fast.

Instinctively, Bobbi reaches out to brace her hand against Skye’s… thigh, hopefully? General lap area is what she’s aiming for, and she can feel her cheeks heating up as she fumbles slightly. “Give me a minute to adjust,” she quips.

“It’s fine,” says Skye. “You’re okay.”

Between that and Jemma’s encouraging little whimper, Bobbi feels marginally better about this, and she rubs the spot on Skye’s leg she’s managed to grab hold of. “Thanks,” she says, with a bit of humility that would typically be out of character.

“‘Course,” says Skye. “You wanna scoot forward a little so you can touch honey?”

Bobbi nods. “Point me the right direction,” she says, managing to make it sound self-deprecating.

Skye gently takes Bobbi’s hand and places it on Jemma’s thigh. “How about here? You can do more of what you were doing to me. She likes that.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Bobbi murmurs, trying for something like playful as she starts tracing circles on Jemma’s skin. “This is fun for you, isn’t it, honey?”

Jemma mumbles a yes, leaning her head forward toward Bobbi’s.

“That’s pretty,” says Skye. “Hey, how about we see if you two can kiss? I can help, kinda.”

Jemma nods enthusiastically and Bobbi chuckles. “I’m game,” she murmurs.

“Okay. So Jemma’s mouth is about a foot and a half in front of you, but you have to move your head down a little.”

“Makes sense,” Bobbi says. She angles in the appropriate direction, humming thoughtfully. She could go about this faster, but she doesn’t want to risk accidentally smacking Jemma in the face or something.

“Now, move forward slowly. Honey, tilt your head to the left so she won’t smack into your nose, okay? Good girl.”

Jemma does, but she doesn’t make to actually initiate the kiss, mostly because, well, she’s not exactly going to be participating to the same degree. She does try to guide Bobbi with her voice, though, silly as it might sound.

“Hey,” Bobbi murmurs, finally brushing up against Jemma’s cheek and quickly turning it into a kiss, pressing her lips against Jemma’s and soon adding some tongue. This clearly makes Jemma happy, since tonight she can at least reciprocate that much, and she’s moaning to prove it.

“Damn,” says Skye, grinning. “This is nice. You two look pretty.”

Jemma’s shoulders roll, and she turns her head just slightly so she can meet Skye’s eyes as she starts to express her gratitude. Bobbi giggles in response. “What’s that, honey?” She hasn’t entirely learned how to translate Jemma’s gagtalk, but it makes her smile to listen to.

“It was a thank you and something about how gorgeous you are,” Skye interprets, amused. “Which, she’s right about that.”

“Yeah?” Bobbi prompts, and she feels Jemma nod against her cheek. “Thanks, honey. You are too, you feel so nice.”

“And what about me?” asks Skye. “I think you should give me some kisses too.”

Bobbi makes a noise in the back of her throat, considering this. “I’m game,” she says, which either means she’s going to insist Skye come to her or she’s ready for instructions.

“Good,” replies Skye. “Do you want me to help you out or just give you some directions?”

“Whatever,” Bobbi says, shrugging a bit too casually.

“Alright. How about you come over here then? Turn around and scoot forward a few inches.” Skye _could_ just grab her and tug her forward, but that wouldn’t be as fun.

Bobbi huffs, but she’s not really surprised. She squeezes Jemma’s leg one last time, then turns. She figures Skye will tell her if she’s gone too far, or anyway she hopes.

“A little to the right,” encourages Skye. “There. Now you can come forward.”

Jemma can’t help it, she giggles a little bit, and when Bobbi turns her head somewhat indignantly she mumbles something. Skye snickers and says, “Honey says she’s laughing with you, not at you.”

“You’re letting honey be a little naughty tonight,” Bobbi remarks, but she starts moving forward, more cautious than she’d like to admit.

“It’s fun,” says Skye with a smirk. “Just something different. Okay, you’re good, you can stop now. My mouth is about a foot in front of you.”

“Well, it’s not the sexiest direction, but it’ll get the point across,” Bobbi snarks cheerfully as she leans forward.

Skye decides to be nice and meets her a little early, resting one hand on Bobbi’s leg to help orient her. She’s gentle at first, just playing with Bobbi a little.

“I have to say, you’re wearing this well,” Bobbi remarks.

“Thanks, baby,” murmurs Skye, nipping at Bobbi’s bottom lip. “You too. You’re being very good.”

This both pleases Bobbi and ruffles her feathers, which she’s pretty sure Skye expected. Instead of saying so, she moves to deepen the kiss. “Planning on amping it up anytime soon?” she asks.

Skye laughs and pulls back. “Alright, alright. Stay there for a second.” She starts to move over next to Jemma. “I’m moving over next to Jemma now, I want you to get on your stomach and then come to me.”

“I’m assuming it’s gonna pay off,” Bobbi says blithely, waiting until the bed has stopped shifting to drop into a crawl and guess at where Skye’s ended up.

“It better,” Skye replies, putting her hand in Bobbi’s hair. “A little closer. There. Okay, now you know what to do.”

“Any special instructions?” Bobbi asks, grinning cheekily.

“No, I know you know how I like it.”

“Damn right I do,” Bobbi retorts, and she reaches to take hold of Skye’s thighs as she kisses her clit.

“Oh now hold on,” says Skye, smirking, “I forgot to say you’re not allowed to touch me with anything other than your mouth.”

Bobbi groans. “What the hell am I supposed to do with my hands, then?”

“Well, not touch yourself.” Skye thinks a minute. “You could put them under your shoulders, or behind your back. The first one would probably be easier, but it’s up to you.” She knows Bobbi will want to go for the challenge.

Which is really clever, because normally she’d be cringing at the idea of posing like that, but now that it’s a _challenge_ … “You’ve got it,” she mutters, sliding her arms behind her back and interlacing her fingers.

“Thank you,” says Skye. Then she reaches over to run a hand down Jemma’s arm, then through her hair. “How you doing, honey?”

Jemma whimpers in the affirmative, doing her best to move against Skye’s hand.

“God,” Bobbi mutters, trying to chuckle. “That’s so unfair.”

“Hey,” teases Skye, “you have something to focus on, don’t complain.”

“That wasn’t a complaint, that was a fact,” Bobbi snaps, but she starts licking Skye more fervently. Maybe it’s a reward thing.

Skye starts to rock her hips against Bobbi, biting her lip to keep from moaning yet. “Yeah,” she breathes. “Keep going.”

Bobbi rolls her eyes, but she obliges. “Yes, ma’am,” she says, but it’s dripping sarcasm.

That makes Skye snort. “Careful or I’ll make you stay down there for a while,” she says, grinning.

“I mean, if you wanted to play with overstimulation, I’d be your girl,” Bobbi replies with a shrug.

“Weirdo,” says Skye fondly. “C’mon, back to it.”

Bobbi shakes her head. Back to it isn’t really a punishment, though, considering how fun it is to eat Skye out. “You taste really good,” she mumbles, sucking Skye’s clit into her mouth.

Skye gasps. “Th-thanks,” she replies, trying to keep her cool (it’s hard).

“You’re welcome,” Bobbi hums, not quite lifting her mouth away from Skye because she knows that’ll work wonders.

Moaning, Skye rolls her hips and says, “More?” It’s not quite begging, but.

“More what?” Bobbi asks mischievously.

“Fuck, I dunno, tongue? Anything.”

Playfully, Jemma sticks her own tongue out, eyes glinting.

“We’ll get to you later, honey,” teases Skye, letting her hand rest on Jemma’s leg so she can stroke it.

“Nasty,” Bobbi giggles, but before Skye can argue she returns attentions to her center. “Harder?”

“Yeah, please,” gasps Skye.

“I can do that,” Bobbi murmurs, proceeding to, well, do that.

Skye pants her way through her orgasm and then says, out of breath, “G-good job, baby, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Bobbi replies, more smug than anything.

Taking a moment to collect herself, Skye grips Bobbi’s hair a little tighter and says, “Sit up, I have an idea.” Once Bobbi’s done that, Skye guides her over to Jemma and says, “Honey, can you work on getting her mouth clean?”

Jemma whimpers and nods, leaning forward as best she can to lick all of Skye’s taste off of Bobbi’s mouth. She’s not exactly delicate about it, she really can’t be, but she’s trying to take her time, watching both Skye and Bobbi for reactions. Bobbi is trying to keep still to make it easier and also because if she doesn’t she’s probably going to reach down and start getting herself off, which she assumes isn’t allowed.

“Goddamn, that’s pretty,” says Skye. “Good job.”

Like it always does, this praise makes Jemma preen; Bobbi tries not to be quite so glad about the compliment, but she is. “Feels pretty nice, too,” she murmurs. “You leave honey’s mouth open for a reason?”

“I did,” says Skye, smirking, “but right now I think she’s earned a reward, hm?”

Over Jemma’s eager squeaking, Bobbi says, “She’s been pretty good.”

“She has,” agrees Skye. “How about you take care of her?”

Bobbi tilts her head. “Are you repositioning her?”

“No. I was actually thinking of you using fingers,” says Skye. “I’m gonna move you to her side,” she adds, gently nudging Bobbi in the right direction.

“Mm, that’s fun too,” Bobbi says. “Don’t you think, honey?”

Jemma exclaims something all eager and garbled, and Skye giggles. “She sure does. Okay, you good there, baby?”

“Sure am,” Bobbi says, feeling for the space between Jemma’s torso, arm, and leg and slipping her hand through. “Am I going to need narrative clues?”

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about anything above the waist,” replies Skye.

“Hm, okay,” Bobbi murmurs, starting to rub at Jemma gently. “Hard, fast, soft, slow?”

“Start kinda slow,” Skye says, adjusting so she’s on Jemma’s other side. “You can work her up a little.”

“I can, huh,” Bobbi whispers, approximating where Jemma’s cheek will be based on where her whimpers are coming from and leaning in to give her a careful little kiss.

Skye laughs. “Yeah. I want her to enjoy this.”

“I have the feeling she’s gonna enjoy this no matter what,” Bobbi remarks. “She’s already pretty much soaked.”

“Good.” Skye reaches up to pet Jemma’s hair. “You having a good time, honey?”

Jemma nods quickly, looking straight at Skye as she attempts an “I love you.”

“I love you too,” murmurs Skye, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. “You can go a bit faster,” she adds to Bobbi.

“Got it,” Bobbi says, lowering her chin a bit as if she’s focusing. Her fingers do, in fact, start to move faster, but her other hand lazily starts to drag up and down Jemma’s back, just for a little bit extra.

Which Skye notices, of course. “Hey,” she warns. “Let me do that.” She gently moves Bobbi’s hand before starting to copy her on Jemma’s other side.

Bobbi grins cheekily. “Fine, fine,” she says, concentrating fully on Jemma, on tracing patterns against her thigh and drawing circles over her clit. “You like?”

“Uh huh,” Jemma manages to squeak out.

“Keep going,” coaxes Skye, “she’s almost there.”

So Bobbi does. It’s not hard, she can follow the cues Jemma’s body is giving even without seeing, so that’s nice, in a way. She’s enjoying guessing how Jemma feels, besides. Not that it’s particularly difficult either, given how noisy Jemma is.

When Jemma comes, she does so with a wail, dropping her head to her chest in a show of exhaustion, and Skye smiles and says, “Good job, baby, thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Bobbi says, though it’s a bit strained considering how acutely she wants for actual physical pleasure herself.

“Aw, just wait a minute,” teases Skye. “I need to get honey cleaned up first.” She scoots over to the edge of the bed and grabs the box of tissues on the nightstand, grabbing a few and then reaching to help Jemma out. “You’re a little messy,” she teases her, kissing her on the lips.

“Happens when you get excited,” Bobbi remarks with a little shrug.

“Yeah, wasn’t complaining,” says Skye with a laugh. “There. Better?” she asks Jemma.

Jemma, for her part, nods, trying to signal her gratitude with her eyes.

“You two are kind of disgusting,” Bobbi comments, as she often does.

“We try,” chirps Skye. “Now, you ready for some attention?”

“God, yes,” Bobbi exclaims.

“Alright. Come over here in front of honey,” says Skye, helping Bobbi move to the right place, “and then stretch out on your back.”

Bobbi does, wiggling against the mattress as she settles in. “Next,” she says cheerfully.

“You can hold onto her legs if you want to,” replies Skye, crouching down between Bobbi’s legs and nuzzling her thighs a bit to let Bobbi know she’s there.

“Ooh, okay,” Bobbi says, reaching up to grab onto Jemma’s ankles right above the bar. “Hey down there.”

“Hey,” echoes Skye, giving Bobbi a few tentative licks. “Damn, you’re pretty wet too.”

“Well, yeah, this has been the most intense foreplay ever for me,” Bobbi snarks.

“Lemme see if I can help with that,” Skye snarks, swiping her tongue over Bobbi’s clit.

“You can just stay there for a while,” Bobbi hums, shifting her hips.

Skye laughs and continues. She definitely wasn’t planning on moving.

Bobbi smiles, still a little arrogant. “You’re not bad at this,” she remarks.

“Thanks?” Skye asks. It’s a little muffled since she’s busy licking.

“I mean it,” Bobbi says, a bit more encouraging. “All of this. You’ve pulled it off.”

Making a contented noise in her throat, Skye sucks at Bobbi’s clit, trying to get more of a reaction out of her.

It works, considering Bobbi shouts “ _That_ ” and digs her heels into the mattress.

Skye chuckles and keeps it up, nipping at Bobbi gently to see what she’ll do.

“God,” Bobbi mutters, gripping Jemma’s legs tighter enough that Jemma moans too.

“Mmm,” purrs Skye, pausing to ask, “Good?”

“So good,” Bobbi rumbles.

Satisfied, Skye sucks at her some more, using her tongue when she can. She likes it when Bobbi gets a little incoherent, it’s funny.

Just then, Jemma makes a little _look at me_ sort of noise.

Presuming that’s meant for her, Skye pauses and glances up. “What’s that, honey?”

Jemma rolls her eyes self-effacingly, then tries to say something that’s just coherent enough Bobbi tilts her head.

“She says she’s really enjoying this and it’s hot,” interprets Skye, grinning.

“I bet,” Bobbi says smugly, squeezing Jemma’s legs. “I’m getting about to that point, if you’d be so kind?”

“‘Course, baby,” replies Skye, leaning back in to finish the job.

One advantage of her position tonight is that Bobbi feels a bit less inhibited, so she screams curse words as she comes, flopping against the bed.

Skye stays down there long enough to clean her up, then asks cheekily, “How was that?”

“Really damn good,” Bobbi gasps. “Get up here and kiss me.”

“Okay!” says Skye, not even minding that that was technically an order. She sits up and kisses Bobbi, slipping her tongue into her mouth.

“God, you feel pretty,” Bobbi murmurs.

Skye hums. “Same to you. And now…” She pauses to think for a minute. “Honey, I have an idea of something you can do for me, but I’m gonna need to take the bar off.”

Jemma, who has a pretty good idea where this is going, nods enthusiastically, mumbling her assent.

Leaning forward to undo her wrists and ankles, Skye tosses the bar aside and then says, “Why don’t you get comfy in front of baby, so she can hold onto you.”

“Any special way, boss?” Bobbi smirks as Jemma turns and settles on her back.

“So she won’t move around too much while we make out,” says Skye, adjusting so she can lean in and kiss Jemma.

Predictably, this makes Jemma wail in delight.

“Okay,” Bobbi says, searching for and sliding her hands down Jemma’s arms, twining their hands together. “Is wiggling fair game?”

Skye pulls back to reply, “Wiggling is pretty much inevitable, right, honey?”

Jemma practically chirps her response.

“It’s a good thing she’s so noisy,” Bobbi remarks. “Keeps this from getting too dull on my end.”

“It’s nice,” agrees Skye, licking into Jemma’s mouth.

Jemma takes a deep breath and arches up to press against Skye as best she can, because it’s one of the only ways she can really participate.

Skye hums gratefully, grabbing onto Jemma’s hair and giving it a little tug. This gets Jemma making a funny vowely noise, squeezing her eyes shut blissfully.

“That’s a good thing,” Bobbi observes dryly.

“She likes it when I pull her hair, don’t you?” Skye asks, stroking her.

“Uh huh,” Jemma whimpers, rolling her body under Skye’s.

“It makes her feel really good and like I’m having fun playing with her, right?” continues Skye.

“Uh huh,” Jemma repeats, beaming as best she can. There’s actually a bit more to it, physiology and nerve endings and all that, but she won’t bother to try to explain it right now, given that she really can’t.

Skye kisses her again. “Good girl,” she purrs. “Would you like to take care of me?”

Jemma nods again, bordering on frantic by this point.

“Okay. Can you get on your back?”

Jemma rearranges, shifting against the bed and keeping her hands in Bobbi’s. What she murmurs next is something close to “please?”

“Of course,” replies Skye, climbing on and settling in. “Anytime you’re ready.”

This is, of course, the whole advantage of the ring gag, so Jemma’s been expecting it, but it still presents an interestingly unique new challenge. Tongue is kind of her only option, so tongue will have to do, and she starts by dipping it into Skye curiously.

“Do I get running commentary?” Bobbi asks, trying to make it sound like a joke.

Skye snorts, though it’s hard to stay composed at the moment. “Well, right now she’s still testing it out. Feels nice though.”

“Yeah?” Bobbi murmurs. “I bet. She’s pretty good at this.”

“She is,” agrees Skye. “You can go a little faster if you want to, honey.”

Jemma nods, starting to give that a try. Absently, she squeezes Bobbi’s hands, mostly because her hands would rather be doing something more active but she’s glad of this option, too.

“I mean, and at least I know what this looks like,” Bobbi teases. “So I can imagine.”

Moaning a little, Skye says, “ _Yeah_. Keep that up, that’s good.”

Jemma hums against Skye’s flesh, pleased, and drags her tongue up to play with Skye’s clit some. This is, bar none, her favorite thing.

Skye starts rocking her hips against Jemma’s mouth, her breath starting to come in gasps. “Yeah, more,” she whimpers.

Jemma whines, lifting her head a bit and working at it even more diligently. After a bit more of that, Skye yelps and shudders through her climax. “Goddamn,” she murmurs once she’s calmed.

“That sounded impressive,” Bobbi declares.

“Yeah,” gasps Skye, reaching down to pet Jemma’s hair. “She did a very good job.”

Jemma mewls, clearly pleased with herself.

“Now,” Skye adds, “I think it’s time for that thing we talked about, honey.”

“You’ve been talking without me?” Bobbi says, sounding amused.

“A little,” singsongs Skye, “and I think you’ll like what we have planned.” She climbs off of Jemma, then lies down on her stomach and reaches to undo the gag. “Doing okay?” she asks, easing it out of Jemma’s mouth.

“Yeah,” Jemma murmurs, ducking to kiss Skye’s shoulder in a hurry.

“Oh, what’s this, then?” Bobbi asks, smirking.

“You’ll like it,” Jemma promises throatily.

Skye scoots over to Bobbi’s side, while Jemma mirrors her on the other. Skye leans in to kiss Bobbi on the mouth, nipping at her a little.

“You’re feisty,” Bobbi comments, rolling onto her side to deepen the kiss.

“It’s that kind of night,” Jemma murmurs, kissing the top of Bobbi’s shoulder and dragging teeth lightly along her skin.

Skye breaks the kiss to start kissing and sucking at Bobbi’s neck instead. “We just wanna be nice to you,” she purrs. “Because you’re so nice to us all the time.”

“And we know you’ll let us tonight,” Jemma murmurs, sliding her arm over Bobbi’s waist.

“And you’re being good,” purrs Skye, scraping her teeth across Bobbi’s collarbone, “so of course you’ll let us.”

Despite herself, Bobbi shivers. “Well, if you’ve already got your minds made up,” she says.

“We do,” Jemma declares. Her hand reaches up to play with Bobbi’s breast, teasing her nipple.

Meanwhile, Skye drapes one leg over Bobbi’s thigh, kissing her shoulder lazily. “I’m getting a little sleepy,” she confesses, “but we can continue this in the morning if you want.”

“Your birthday present,” Bobbi murmurs, but given that her sarcasm is fading out she’s probably getting to that point too.

“May I have you in my mouth?” Jemma whispers, sweetly as possible.

“That fair?” Bobbi asks Skye.

“Yeah, ‘course,” murmurs Skye, moving her leg to let Bobbi flip over.

“Thank you,” Jemma says, and she wiggles down to suck on Bobbi’s nipple, giving a contented sigh.

“You both feeling good?” Skye asks, already sounding half-asleep.

“Uh-huh,” Jemma mumbles, not moving save to reach for Skye’s hand.

“Really good,” Bobbi agrees fondly.

“Oh, d’you want me to take that off? I just realized.”

Bobbi shrugs. “Probably should, before you forget,” she teases.

Skye reaches to undo it, tossing it away once it’s off. “Thanks,” she says, kissing the back of Bobbi’s shoulder. “You were great.”

“Thanks,” Bobbi says airily. “You two were pretty damn good too.”

Jemma gives a happy little shiver and moan.

“Careful,” teases Skye, “you’ll get her all worked up again.”

“Then it’ll be sweet dreams,” Bobbi suggests.


	24. the feelings you have might have to be sacrificed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honey and Gogo try an experiment. It doesn't exactly go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows [a dream needs believing to taste like the real thing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/16943364).

“So,” says Gogo, once they’re both sitting on the hotel bed staring at each other.

“Yes!” Honey exclaims, not even caring how high-pitched and ridiculous she probably sounds. “We should… parameters. All good experiments have parameters.”

Gogo smirks. “Yeah. Okay, like what?”

“Like… well, we should try to make sure it’s as even a playing field, so to speak, as possible,” Honey says. “We’re already on neutral ground so that’s good, but, well, it’s not as if it’s going to be skewed with the added pressure of being watched since that applies to both of us, so we can just assume the times are proportional with that factor, and… clothes, we should… clothes.”

“Clothes on or off?” Gogo asks.

“That… should be decided,” Honey squeaks. “I mean, obviously _some_ clothes will have to come off. But… what do you think?”

Gogo’s quiet a moment, thinking. “Dunno. What do you usually do?”

This shouldn’t be an embarrassing question considering what they’re about to do, but Honey blushes anyway. “I mean, it kind of depends?” she says with a nervous laugh. “I guess when I… when I’m not just, y’know. Rushing it in in the middle of a busy day. I guess then I usually get undressed most of the way, or all.”

“So, okay, let’s do that,” Gogo says, then tries to pretend to be casual. “I mean, if you’re cool with that.”

“I am,” Honey says. “I mean, I want this to be… genuine.” She’s probably a tomato right now, but that’s just how it’s going to be.

Gogo laughs. “Not sure how genuine it’ll be, but makes sense. Should we both do it now, or…?”

“Well, do you have any more… parameters?”

“How much talking should there be?” Gogo asks. “I mean, while the other person is...y’know.”

“I mean, is there… usually talking?” Honey says, giggling. “When…”

Shrugging, Gogo grins. “I mean I guess like...do we have to stay totally silent during?”

“That would be weird,” Honey admits. “I guess just… do what feels… natural?”

“Alright.” Gogo shrugs and shucks off her pants, then her shirt. “Bras on or off?”

“On,” Honey suggests tentatively. “Just… I don’t know. I… do that. Sometimes.”

“Okay.” Gogo eases off her boyshorts and then reaches in her backpack for the vibrator. “D’you need, I dunno, a towel or anything?”

“Maybe?” Honey does that nervy bird laugh she saves for truly awkward situations. “I mean, I guess… better safe than sorry?”

Gogo goes over to grab one from the bathroom. “I don’t, but my ex did, so it’s good to ask.”

Honey makes probably the least dignified noise ever. “Well,” she says after clearing her throat. “You wanna go first, or?”

“I mean, unless you want to. I’m good either way.”

“Well, G comes before H! In the alphabet. So, you first.” Honey laughs, even though it’s not funny at all.

Gogo snorts. “You’re cute. Alright.” She arranges herself sitting on the bed, but not facing Honey because Honey is currently leaning against the headboard, and turns on the vibe to the first setting, touching it to her clit. Almost immediately, she lets out the loudest noise Honey’s ever heard her make.

“Oh!” Honey exclaims, then promptly slaps a hand over her mouth.

Even though she’s breathing a bit heavily, Gogo laughs. “What, you didn’t think I’d be loud?” she half-gasps.

“I don’t know what I thought,” Honey mumbles. She also doesn’t think about the fact that this heavily implies she has in fact thought _about_ this.

“Surprise,” says Gogo with a wink, moving the vibe along a little. “Fuck, this isn’t bad for $40.”

“Good?” Honey chirps.

“Yeah,” Gogo murmurs. She rolls her hips against it a little and clicks to another setting, groaning loudly again.

Honey tilts her head, honestly sort of fascinated by watching this. Except for then it occurs to her how weird a thing it is to be fascinated by and turns away. Why did she ever agree to this?

Gogo inserts it, hissing “ _Fuck_ ” as she does, then tips it against her g-spot. She doesn’t do penetration very often, but she figures since Honey’s does it’s only fair. She keeps that up for a while, trying (mostly unsuccessfully) to keep herself from shrieking, then finally comes with a wail.

“That sounded, ah… fun,” Honey mumurs.

It takes Gogo a minute to be able to respond, but finally she pants, “Yup.”

“I should go get mine,” Honey says, studiously avoiding looking Gogo head-on.

“Okay,” says Gogo, smirking. “Look, I won’t watch you either, if it’ll make it less awkward.”

“It’s not that,” Honey mumbles, rummaging in her bag. “It’s just…”

Gogo tilts her head. “What?” she asks, more gentle than she usually is about, well, anything.

“I can’t keep up this pretense,” Honey moans. “I don’t know how I thought this was actually going to work, I just… I like you, I really like you, I’ve liked you for a really long time, and thinking I could get away with just having science orgasms with you was the stupidest thing I’ve thought in a really long time too.”

Gogo blinks. “Oh.” Then she’s quiet for a long time.

“Crud,” Honey exclaims. “I’m just going to go away and pretend this never happened and does that work for you?”

“Don’t,” Gogo says softly. “Just…” She moves over to where Honey is and leans over to kiss her on the lips.

Honey whimpers. “Are you being nice or am I actually ridiculously lucky?”

Gogo laughs awkwardly. “I guess the latter? I’m not exactly nice, not sure if you’ve noticed.”

“You’re nice to me,” Honey points out.

“Well, yeah,” says Gogo. “That’s ‘cause I like you too.”

“Like… in a ‘this wasn’t just for science’ way?” Honey asks, giggling.

“Yeah.” Gogo shrugs, biting her lip. “I wasn’t sure how to bring it up and I didn’t wanna freak you out, so I just kinda...didn’t.”

“Why did you think you’d freak me out?” Honey asks.

Gogo shrugs again. “Dunno. I didn’t think you’d be into me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be into you?” Honey exclaims. “You’re lovely, and you’re so smart, and you’re really fun to be around.”

Running a hand through her hair, Gogo laughs. “Thanks. I guess, I dunno, you’re really pretty and smart and I figured you were out of my league or some bullshit like that.”

“No!” Honey shouts. “You’re totally in my league. If I even have a league, which is kind of silly.”

“It is,” agrees Gogo. “But I didn’t want things to get weird either.”

“I’m pretty sure they’d have been weird after the vibrator party no matter what,” Honey giggles.

“Good point.” Smirking, Gogo adds, “So, are they weird, or…?”

“I mean, not bad weird,” Honey says shyly.

“D’you wanna make out some or would you rather use that?” Gogo asks, nodding at Honey’s vibrator.

“Could we do both, maybe?” Honey asks.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Gogo scoots a little closer. “You wanna arrange yourself, or what?”

Honey giggles, leaning back against the headboard. “I mean, if you wanna give directions I wouldn’t be opposed,” she says, “but this usually works for starters.”

“Okay,” says Gogo, straddling Honey’s leg. “How’s this? So I can kiss you and stuff, if you want.”

“Yeah,” Honey murmurs. “This is nice. You’re pretty.”

Gogo ducks her head shyly, then pretends it was so she can kiss Honey’s neck. “I mean, I’m not exactly going for that, but thanks.”

“You achieve it, though,” Honey insists. “I like when you get all excited about things.”

“Thanks,” Gogo murmurs against Honey’s skin. “I like it when you do too. It’s just more common with you.”

“Well, that’s part of what makes it special with you, though,” Honey says. “It’s not something everyone gets to see all the time.”

Gogo laughs. “That’s the truth. Hope you enjoy it.”

“I do,” Honey murmurs, smiling shyly.

Smiling back, Gogo leans in to kiss her on the lips again. “Anytime you’re ready,” she teases.

“Yeah,” Honey says. “This is too good to be true, it feels like.”

“I can pinch you if you really want, but I kinda doubt that’s the case.”

“I mean, there are other ways to tell,” Honey shrugs. “And pinching in certain places wouldn’t go amiss.”

Smirking, Gogo raises an eyebrow. “You wanna be more specific? I’d be happy to help.”

“Well,” Honey says, biting her lip, “my bra is still on. That doesn’t have to stay constant.”

“Ooh, okay,” purrs Gogo, reaching behind Honey to undo said bra and toss it aside. “Damn.”

“They’re not that exciting,” Honey laughs.

“Beg to differ,” says Gogo, leaning down to press kisses to one breast and then the other. “You’re super hot.”

Honey’s eyelids flutter. “You’re really good at that,” she replies.

Gogo snorts. “I’m not even really doing anything yet.” She leans down to suck at Honey’s nipple, swirling her tongue around it, which makes Honey squeal. “See,” Gogo adds, “ _that’s_ something.”

“Damn right,” Honey exclaims.

“You want me to do anything else? The experiment’s kind of fucked now,” Gogo says with a shrug.

“Up to you,” Honey whimpers. “I’m into this new experiment, too.”

“Yeah,” breathes Gogo. “Here, how about…” She grabs the rabbit vibrator Honey bought and inspects it for a moment before turning it on. “You good?”

“Really good,” Honey says. “You’re amazing, you know.”

“Aw, shucks,” says Gogo playfully, reaching down to make sure Honey’s wet enough for the toy before starting to slide it inside her. “You too.”

“Thanks,” Honey murmurs. “That feels nice.”

“Good.” Gogo starts to move it a bit, just getting used to everything. She’s used strap-ons before, but not rabbits, and this is different enough that it takes some adjusting. She tips it just slightly, testing for Honey’s g-spot.

“Yeah,” Honey breathes. “That’s good too. Kiss me?”

Leaning up to do so, Gogo slips her some tongue too. She holds the rabbit with one hand and continues nudging it around, and her other hand wanders up to play with one of Honey’s breasts.

“You’re yummy,” Honey whispers, not entirely aware she’s said it. She arches her back, lifts her hips, absolutely wiggles into Gogo.

That makes Gogo laugh. “Again, not something I strive for, but sure.”

“Well,” Honey stammers. “It’s… you are.”

“You’re sweet,” replies Gogo. She flicks the vibe to another pattern, mostly out of curiosity.

“Ooh, yeah,” Honey murmurs.

“Tell me when I’m getting warmer,” Gogo says, thrusting the vibe slowly.

“Literally, or is that kind of a pun?” Honey manages to ask.

Gogo chuckles and replies, “I meant it figuratively, as in, tell me when I find your g-spot, but could go either way.”

“You’re really freaking close,” Honey pants, laughing.

And after another minute or so Honey yelps loudly enough that Gogo teases, “Oh, there we go.”

“Yeah!” Honey exclaims. “Nobody’s ever done that before.”

“Really? Shit, I’m sorry. Lemme…”

“Let you?”

Instead of answering with words, Gogo starts pumping the vibe against Honey, turning it to the next level.

“Oh!” Honey yelps. “That’s so…”

Gogo grins. “Good?”

Honey nods. “Really really.”

So Gogo keeps going, making sure that the ears are giving proper attention to Honey’s clit too, and it’s all Honey can do to keep from completely melting. She’s not even making sense by the time she orgasms, but it’s absolutely lovely.

Gogo holds onto her the whole time, and then eases the vibe out once she’s calmed, uses the towel to clean her some, and kisses her again. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Honey whimpers. “You’re awesome.”

“Thanks,” hums Gogo. “You’re awesome too. So I did okay then?” She’s grinning in a way that means she very much knows the answer to that already.

“You did really okay,” Honey says.

“Good.” Gogo kisses her. “You want anything else?”

“Could we cuddle?” Honey asks.

Chuckling, Gogo nods. “Sure. You wanna be big spoon or little?”

“I mean, don’t I have to be big?” Honey jokes.

“Not necessarily,” says Gogo wryly. “My ex was half a head taller and I was always big spoon.”

“Could we try that maybe?” Honey asks softly.

“Yeah.” Gogo climbs off her and takes off her own bra while waiting for Honey to lie down, then wraps herself around her. “How’s this?”

“Really good,” Honey says. “You feel really nice.”

“Good.” They’re both quiet a moment, then Gogo laughs. “Hell of a day.”

“Yeah,” Honey agrees. “In a good way, I think.”

“I’d definitely say so,” says Gogo, pressing a kiss to Honey’s shoulder.

 

* * *

 

“Hey,” says Hiro when they walk into the lab, “are you guys...holding hands?”

“Yeah,” says Gogo, overly casual. She gives Honey’s hand a final squeeze before dropping it and heading to her work station.

“Wait,” calls Wasabi, glancing up, “are you saying I won the bet?” He turns to Fred, grinning. “Pay up!”

Fred grins good-naturedly and rummages in his backpack for a while before triumphantly pulling out a stained, wrinkled, possibly biohazardous $20 bill. “Here ya go!”

Wasabi wrinkles his nose. “Uh…”

“There was a bet?” Honey asks, making a face like she thoroughly disapproves.

Tadashi rolls his eyes. “Those two had a bet. I told them it was stupid.”

“I said you guys would get together by the end of the summer, Fred said Christmas,” explains Wasabi, who has picked up Fred’s money with a pair of tweezers and is eyeing it warily.

“Wow, guys,” says Gogo. “How long has this been a thing?”

Hiro shrugs. “I mean, we were kinda waiting for you to figure it out.”

“Figure out we were being bet on, or figure out…?” Honey asks.

“That you were totally in _luuuuuurve_ ,” Fred says, making a kissy face. He only stops when Gogo smacks him on the arm.

Tadashi looks apologetic when he says, “So, since we’re all wondering, and nobody is gonna want to go back to work until we know, what exactly happened?”

Gogo raises an eyebrow at Honey, who very articulately squeaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Gogo's vibe](http://www.goodvibes.com/s/sex-toys/p/1-2-BA-1204/jopen/curve-petite-silicone-vibrator-by-jopen?lref=Cat%7Ccatalog70002_gv112%7C%7C35%7Cc%7C0%7C-currpop%7Csearch_page%7C0).  
> [Honey's vibe](http://www.goodvibes.com/s/sex-toys/p/GV13745/cal-exotics/jack-rabbit-one-touch-vibrator?lref=Cat%7Ccatalog70002_gv103%7C%7C15%7Cc%7C0%7C-relevance%7Ctoy_category%7C0).


	25. and you ask me to stay, swear I won’t run away, ‘cause love begins here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie shows Peggy some idle wedding planning she's been doing. Then their attention turns to other things.

“Hey, Peg, I wanna show you something I’ve been working on,” Angie says, bounding over as Peggy begins to unload the groceries. “When you’re done, I mean.”

“You seem excited,” Peggy laughs. “I’ll be quick, promise.”

“I am,” says Angie. “You want help?”

“Wouldn’t hurt,” Peggy replies cheerfully, starting to pack things into the fridge.

Angie grabs some cans and heads for the pantry to put them away. “So, I’ve been looking at wedding stuff,” she calls. “I figure starting now is okay ‘cause we’ve got plenty of time to figure out what we really want.”

“I think you’re meant to start planning some parts early, at least,” Peggy smirks. “To make sure it’s all ready in time.”

“I mean, that’s what I thought,” says Angie with a shrug. “And I’m totally willing to listen to whatever you want too, I just threw some ideas onto Pinterest ‘cause I got inspired.”

“Oh, dear,” Peggy murmurs, but she’s still smiling.

“Hey, what’s _that_ supposed to mean?” teases Angie.

“It means I can take a guess about these ideas of yours, and they’re going to be potentially quite ostentatious,” Peggy remarks.

Angie shrugs. “I like pretty things, you know that.”

“I do,” Peggy agrees. “Which I don’t mind, but I’d rather not go _terribly_ overboard.”

“Aw, I know,” says Angie. “Don’t worry, it’ll be what we both want. You wanna see what I have so far?”

“Give me a try,” Peggy encourages.

“C’mon, it’s in the bedroom.” Angie grabs Peggy’s hand and tugs her that way. She picks up the Stark tablet from her nightstand and unlocks it, then hands it to Peggy. “I mean, I know some of this stuff is way out of our budget, but it’s awful pretty.”

Peggy nods. “I mean, it _is_ , but… are those meant to be real crystal?” she asks, nodding to a candleabra display.

Angie shrugs. “Probably? Gotta be honest, I didn’t look too closely at the details. We can maybe find some that are just plain ol’ glass, if we decide to go with that.”

“It’s nice, just - well, very glitzy,” Peggy murmurs, selecting another slightly less opulent tabletop photograph. “Do you have an opinion of colors?”

“Not really? I hadn’t thought too much about that. D’you?”

“Nothing too sweet,” Peggy shrugs, “but not really beyond that.”

Grinning, Angie says, “No pastels?”

“Not primarily,” Peggy grimaces. “Nothing that looks like it could double for a baby shower.”

That makes Angie laugh. “None of those, nope.”

“Besides, I don’t think we have to fool anyone into believing we’re virgins,” Peggy continues.

Angie snorts and points at a seven-tier gold and white cake. “Okay, so this was a little overkill even for me, but the general idea, whaddaya think?”

“The general idea as in the roses, the tiers, the color?” Peggy asks.

“Any of that, yeah. Anything you like? With like, three tiers, let’s not get carried away here,” giggles Angie.

“Three tiers wouldn’t be too much,” Peggy agrees. “It is, theoretically, elegant.”

“Yeah, I just wanted to include an idea of it. Also I dunno if you wanna have it outside or what, but you can do the reception tents up all classy too.” Angie points to one picture that has purple fabric draped across the ceiling.

“I suppose that one is just in case the guests forgot they were attending a wedding of two queer women?” Peggy jokes.

“I mean, it wouldn’t have to be purple, but I guess that would do the trick,” says Angie, grinning.

“It certainly would,” Peggy chuckles. “I mean, a classy purple wouldn’t be awful. That’s a bit bright, I think, but.”

Angie makes a fake-offended sound and puts her hand over her heart. “English, you just have no sense of glamour,” she says with a wink.

“I’m just not as eye-catching in my tastes as you are,” Peggy corrects diplomatically.

“Aw, I know.” Angie leans in to kiss her on the cheek. “I like your taste just fine, Peg.”

“It did point me in a rather important direction,” Peggy smirks.

Angie hums. “Speaking of important directions, anywhere in particular you wanna go for the honeymoon?”

“I hadn’t thought much about it,” Peggy admits. “I think it rather depends on cost, probably.”

“Oh, yeah, ‘course. I don’t really care where we go, as long as I’m with you.”

Peggy pauses, tilting her head. “Well, unless we’ve got a craving to explore old castles my ancestral homeland might not be ideal, but…”

Angie snickers. “You wouldn’t want that, I’d try to do your accent and probably offend everybody.”

“Perhaps,” Peggy says. “But if I’m not mistaken, Italy is meant to be more a romantic destination?”

“Oh, sure. And I’ve probably got some distant relative somewhere that’d be happy to let us stay with them for a day or two,” replies Angie, smirking. “Although I guess maybe that’s not the most romantic.”

‘We could split the difference, do part of the time with your family and part of the time elsewhere,” Peggy suggests.

“Ooh, you’re practical. I like it.” Angie leans over for a kiss.

Peggy returns it, pulling Angie a bit closer. “Well, this is a very practical endeavor, really.”

Angie presses against her. “Also, you know what else I realized?” she purrs. “I’m gonna have to get some nice new things to wear, for you.”

“Oh, _really_ ,” Peggy exclaims. “But you’re so precious already.”

Rolling her shoulders happily, Angie nuzzles Peggy’s neck. “Gosh, thanks, English.”

“I mean, I never object to you dressing up,” Peggy continues, running her hand across Angie’s back, “but, you know. I never object to you, full stop.”

“Glad to hear it,” teases Angie. “And I’m guessing you also wouldn’t _object_ if I look some of this off?” She gestures to her clothes.

Peggy shakes her head, grinning. “Never ever.”

Angie grins back, leaning back to pull off her shirt, quickly followed by her shorts. “And what about you?” she says, running her hand down Peggy’s side.

“If you felt like undressing me, I’d be terribly grateful,” Peggy murmurs.

“Always do,” says Angie, reaching to unbutton Peggy’s shirt.

“Mm, thank you, darling,” Peggy hums. “I suppose we should just set Pinterest aside for now?”

“Yeah.” Angie pauses to put her tablet back on the nightstand before working Peggy’s shirt over her head. “You’re so gorgeous, English.”

“I’m still not sure how I managed to get a girl as beautiful as you into my bed,” Peggy smirks, arching her back in hopes of helping.

“God,” gasps Angie, reaching to work off Peggy’s pants, “same to you. You thrill me, Peg.”

“Likewise,” Peggy laughs. “I find this miraculous.”

Angie reaches around to undo Peggy’s bra, humming happily. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Peggy smiles. “Thank you.”

“‘Course,” says Angie, making quick work of the rest of Peggy’s clothes and wiggling out of her own panties and bra. Then she pulls Peggy close to kiss her.

“You’re wonderful,” Peggy declares. “We’re, if I do say so, wonderful.”

“Damn right,” agrees Angie. “What’re you in the mood for, English?”

“A bit of pampering?” Peggy suggests. “It was such a terribly long day, after all.”

“Awww. I’d be happy to.” Angie begins to kiss down Peggy’s neck, slowly heading for her breasts.

“Thank you,” Peggy smiles. “I admit, I’m not quite enthused about the school year yet. I rather like our little vacation.”

Angie murmurs sympathetically, scraping her teeth across Peggy’s collarbone. “Me too, but hey, money’s always nice.”

“Yes,” Peggy giggles. “You’re nicer, though.” She lifts her hands to hold Angie’s hips, massaging gently.

Sighing happily, Angie angles down to take one of Peggy’s nipples into her mouth, flicking her tongue around it.

“God,” Peggy groans. “You’re so lovely.”

Angie switches to the other one, grinning up at Peggy, before pausing to say, “You too, Peg. You’re delicious.”

“Thank you,” Peggy giggles, pressing up against Angie’s mouth.

Angie spends a few more minutes on Peggy’s breasts before kissing further down her body and swiping her tongue down Peggy’s center. “This okay?” she asks playfully.

“Yes, please,” Peggy murmurs, tangling a hand in Angie’s hair. “You’re almost unbelievably sweet to me.”

Making a happy noise in her throat, Angie leans forward to suck Peggy’s clit into her mouth.

“God, every time you do that it just feels…” Peggy interrupts herself to gasp, pleased.

Pausing to giggle, Angie says, “Peg, I’m already marrying you, you don’t gotta keep sayin’ sweet things.”

“I do if I mean them,” Peggy retorts fondly.

Angie nuzzles at Peggy’s thighs. “God, I’m lucky.” Then she flicks her tongue around again.

“Me, too,” Peggy says. “That no matter what baggage I’ve brought with me, you’ve been interested.”

“Aw, ‘course,” murmurs Angie, slipping her tongue inside.

“You’ve wanted to be my girl,” Peggy continues, almost thoughtful. “My beautiful girl.”

Angie hums happily, starting to thrust her tongue and reaching up to stroke the outside of Peggy’s thighs.

“Really, thank goodness for all the random acts of fate that let this happen,” Peggy declares, wiggling a bit against Angie’s touch.

Angie moans and keeps mouthing at her, listening to Peggy’s reactions.

“You’re wonderful,” Peggy groans. Her head falls back against the headboard, her eyes shut.

Murmuring something that’s supposed to be “no, you,” Angie kisses and licks at her. She loves making Peggy feel good, it’s her favorite.

And with that sort of attention, it’s only a matter of time before Peggy comes, screaming her fiancee’s name. “God _damn_ ,” she pants.

Angie cleans her up a bit, grinning up at Peggy. “Enjoy yourself, English?”

“I always do,” Peggy hums, and she promptly slides down to hold Angie in her arms.

Sighing happily, Angie nestles against her. “I love you, Peggy.”

“I love you too,” Peggy murmurs. “Thank you for wanting… all of this.”

“Always.” Angie nuzzles Peggy’s shoulder and adds, “You’re everything I ever wanted.”

“And you are much more poetic than I am,” Peggy says playfully. “But the sentiment is the same.”

Giggling, Angie replies, “Sure is.” She runs her fingers across Peggy’s skin.

“Give me just another minute to recover,” Peggy jokes, “and I’ll reciprocate, darling.”

“Aw, take your time. I know you’ll take care of me.”

“Damn right I will,” Peggy exclaims, laughing. “It would be wrong not to.”

“I’m glad you think so,” teases Angie. She gives her a quick kiss on the lips.

“Does it ever strike you how genuinely absurd our situation is?” Peggy asks suddenly.

Angie frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Just - of all the places in the world, we both wound up here,” Peggy murmurs, “and everyone around us must have certain _ideas_ but they’re really very far off sometimes.”

“Oh, right.” Snickering, Angie replies, “Well, people are just silly. Anyone who can’t see how I feel about you is kidding themselves.”

“I wonder if any of the students will pick up on it now,” Peggy giggles.

“I mean, some of mine know, they’re pretty smart. I think maybe the rings’ll help?”

“In theory, yes,” Peggy nods. “What are the odds Miriam tries to ban us from wearing them?”

Angie snorts and says, “Oh, she definitely will. Good thing nobody else is gonna give a fuck.”

“It might make Thompson insecure,” Peggy cracks. “After all, how is it we’ve done this but not him yet?”

“‘Cause he wouldn’t know how to eat out a girl if he tried?” teases Angie.

‘Thank god we’re only assuming that,” Peggy exclaims.

Angie gives her a look. “It’s obvious, Peg. He wouldn’t know what to do for a pussy if it was staring him in the face.”

“I imagine many of them have consciously avoided doing that very thing,” Peggy quips.

“Well, yeah,” giggles Angie. “Women are too smart for him, at least I hope so.”

“The vast majority, anyhow,” Peggy agrees. “But on the subject of, ah, pussy…”

“I don’t think you’ve ever said that word before in your life,” Angie teases.

“Not in this context,” Peggy admits. “Still, though.”

Grinning, Angie says, “Still?”

“I believe I owe yours some attention,” Peggy hums.

“That sounds nice,” hums Angie, rolling over onto her back. “What were you thinking?”

“If you felt like offering suggestions, I’d listen,” Peggy offers.

“Well, how about we make out a little, and you use your hands?”

“That sounds nice,” Peggy says, slipping one hand between Angie’s legs. “I do like feeling your cute little reactions to things.”

Angie wiggles and hums. “Thanks, Peg. You’re good to me.”

“You deserve,” Peggy murmurs. “Beautiful.”

“God,” whines Angie. “You too. You’re so gorgeous.”

Peggy reaches to cup Angie’s cheek. “I’m so delighted by you.”

“Same,” gasps Angie. “Kiss me?”

“Of course, love,” Peggy nods, leaning in to capture Angie’s lips with her own.

Angie sighs and wriggles happily, pressing against Peggy as she kisses back. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

“Thank _you_ ,” Peggy says. “Not to be too terribly cheesy, but this makes me feel incredibly lucky.”

“Me too,” says Angie. “More?”

Peggy slips her fingers into Angie, smiling all the while. “Yes?”

“ _Yes,_ ” whimpers Angie, bucking her hips. “That’s so nice.”

“Oh, I’m glad,” Peggy exclaims. “I want that, very much.”

“Thank you.” Angie closes her eyes and sighs delightedly.

“Is this good, darling?” Peggy asks softly. “Should I keep on doing?”

“Yeah, please?”

Peggy smiles, crooking her fingers. “You’re lovely.”

“I wanna be for you,” Angie hums.

“You always are,” Peggy says. “And as much as I’m looking forward to seeing what theatrical delight you wear down the altar, I’m even more excited about what’s going to be under it.”

Angie giggles, which turns into a gasp when Peggy moves her fingers just right. “I...I think you’ll like it,” she manages to say.

“I’d say you’ll look like royalty, but I’d imagine you’ll be a damn sight happier than royalty, at least the historical kind,” Peggy teases, continuing to explore.

Angie snorts. “Probably. I can’t imagine too many of _those_ men knew how to eat out a girl very well, either.”

“I see where your priorities lie,” Peggy teases, kissing Angie’s cheek.

“Well, can you blame me?”

“No,” Peggy admits. “I really can’t.” She thumbs Angie’s clit as she adds, “I’m glad I live up to your standards.”

Angie lets out a loud moan before breathing, “You _really_ do, Peg.”

“You know, I’m prouder of that than anything?”

“Gosh,” whines Angie. “I like- I like making you proud. P-Peg…?”

“Yes, love?”

“Anytime y-you’d like to…”

Peggy beams, moving in to kiss Angie passionately while she strokes her to completion. “Good, love?”

Angie’s only answer is to wail, then pant for a few moments before finally being able to say, “ _Damn_ good.”

“Oh, I’m so glad,” Peggy murmurs, nuzzling Angie’s neck.

“I love you,” says Angie, pulling Peggy down for a kiss.

“I love you too,” Peggy hums.


	26. ‘cause here in the dark there’s nothing to say, I’ll sing a torch song for you now if you want me to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanessa and Elektra take some time during the party to get to know each other better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Directly follows [nothing left of expectations, just you and me: impulsive creations with an alibi](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/19167991).

“Your friends are easily scandalized,” Vanessa murmurs, nudging Elektra into one of Stark’s many spare rooms and then shutting the door and leaning on it, like a playful reminder she can’t leave now even if she doesn’t want to.

Elektra chuckles, ambling over to perch on the foot of the bed. “Most of them are still getting used to me.”

“Are you going to continue to play coy about your circumstances?” Vanessa asks, shaking her head. “I promise I keep secrets.”

“It’s not a secret,” Elektra teases. “Matthew and I are...old friends, and his newer friends seem to like me. Well, most of them. I think Foggy’s afraid of me,” she adds with a laugh.

“Old friends seems an understatement,” Vanessa coaxes.

“It may have been a friendship with certain benefits.” Tossing her head, Elektra grins. “But let’s not talk about him now. I know you have intentions for the evening.”

“I do,” Vanessa agrees, warm and somehow almost threatening. “A real bedroom will be so much more comfortable than a breakroom counter.”

“Then why don’t you join me?” purrs Elektra, patting the spot next to her.

“You could be more polite,” Vanessa says, but she saunters over to sit beside Elektra, smiling wickedly.

“Please.” Elektra smiles back, trying to sound innocent.

“Please what?” Vanessa asks coyly.

“Kiss me?”

“Mm, getting better,” Vanessa hums, but all she does is place a chaste kiss on Elektra’s lips. “You might have to be more specific, though.”

Elektra sighs dramatically, but she’s not surprised by this. “Like you _mean_ it,” she says with a smirk. “Please?”

“Where?”

“Anywhere you like,” Elektra says, arching her back. “I’m all yours.”

“Mm, what an honor,” Vanessa murmurs, and without warning she leans in to kiss Elektra’s neck.

Elektra tips her head back to give Vanessa better access and sighs. “That’s nice.”

“Good,” Vanessa says, wrapping her arm around Elektra’s waist. “Though I’m tempted to ask you to beg more. That’s nice too.”

“Please?” Elektra asks sweetly, pressing closer.

“Better,” Vanessa nods. In the blink of an eye she pushes Elektra back on the bed and quite honestly looms over her, smirking. “Still not best.”

Elektra laughs. “Undress me, please?”

“Good girl,” Vanessa murmurs. Instead of getting to the good part straightaway, she goes to unlace and remove Elektra’s boots, watching for a reaction. “You aren’t one of those very often, are you?”

“No,” agrees Elektra. “Only for those who deserve it.” She smirks up at Vanessa.

“I’m flattered,” Vanessa laughs, pressing a kiss to Elektra’s ankle before shimmying up her body.

Elektra squirms underneath her, grinning. “You should be.”

Almost tiresomely slow, Vanessa starts to play with the zipper of Elektra’s jumpsuit. “What a strange fairy tale,” she muses. “The damsel saved by a warrior who melts as soon as nobody’s looking.”

That makes Elektra snort. “Aren’t fairy tales quite a bit more chaste than this?” she teases. “At least the ones everyone thinks of. Those don’t get past kissing.”

“And isn’t this so much better?” Vanessa counters, finally bringing the zipper down past Elektra’s bra. “Really.”

“Yes,” hums Elektra. “Though you could go a bit faster...please?”

“I could,” Vanessa says, in a way that probably means she won’t.  “But I’m enjoying this so much.”

Sighing, Elektra wiggles just a bit. “It was worth asking,” she says, smirking.

“You’re lucky I’m in the mood to find questions cute instead of impertinent,” Vanessa declares, pulling the zipper past Elektra’s navel.

“Oh? What would you have done in that case?”

“Nothing half so nice as I’m prepared to do now,” Vanessa says, sitting back on her heels. “Peel that thing off, would you?”

Elektra nods and begins to shimmy out of the jumpsuit, tossing it aside elegantly once she has it off. “Now what would you like me to do?” she asks, spreading out.

“Underwear too,” Vanessa instructs.

Elektra finishes undressing, then blinks. “Would you like me to undress you too?”

“I would,” Vanessa agrees smugly.

Sitting up, Elektra reaches to unzip Vanessa’s leather pants. “These are nice,” she purrs. “They flatter you.”

“Thank you, darling,” Vanessa croons, petting Elektra’s bare shoulder. “I so rarely wear pants, I suppose I’m incredibly particular about them.”

“You look stunning in these.” Elektra rolls her shoulders into Vanessa’s touch before tugging off her pants and working on undoing her corset. “And out of them.”

“Sweet words,” Vanessa murmurs. “You’re quite something, too.”

“Thank you,” says Elektra demurely as she finishes unlacing the corset and helps Vanessa get it off. She makes quick work of Vanessa’s underwear and, once she’s naked too, Elektra runs her hand down her side. “Gorgeous,” she breathes.

“Thank you, darling,” Vanessa repeats. “You’re too kind.” She wraps her own arm around Elektra’s waist, presses close, goes back to kissing her neck for the reactions that caused.

Elektra hums, snaking her arms around Vanessa. “What would you like now?” she murmurs. “Anything.”

Vanessa grins wickedly, pulling Elektra’s head back by the hair and worrying the join of her neck and shoulder before she responds. “On your back.”

Whimpering loudly at the bite, Elektra practically melts onto the bed. “And now?” she gasps.

“Hold still,” Vanessa murmurs. “I need to get in place.”

“As you wish,” says Elektra, grinning.

Vanessa laughs low in her throat, positioning herself over Elektra’s face. “You know what to do,” she murmurs.

Elektra grins and, with a nod, she begins to trace Vanessa’s center with her tongue.

“No need to be careful,” Vanessa says. “I’m already quite worked up.”

That makes Elektra chuckle and murmur “Alright” before licking her more firmly, working her way up to Vanessa’s clit and then sucking at it with a soft moan.

Vanessa takes a deep breath, grinding against Elektra’s face none too gently. “Keep making noises for me, darling, they’re so pretty,” she murmurs.

Elektra whimpers in response and dips her tongue into Vanessa, scraping her teeth against her clit lightly.

“Good, good,” Vanessa murmurs. “That’s wonderful.”

Humming, Elektra starts a flicking motion against Vanessa’s clit, alternating that with sucking on it again.

“Harder,” Vanessa encourages.

So Elektra makes her movements firmer and sucks harder, moaning happily.

It’s back and forth like this for a little while, Vanessa giving instructions and Elektra obeying, until abruptly Vanessa braces her hands on the headboard and sighs out her climax, clearly pleased. “You’re rather exemplary,” she murmurs.

Elektra preens. “Thank you,” she says. “I’m glad to please.”

“Oh, you did,” Vanessa promises. “Will continue to do, hopefully.”

“Hopefully,” agrees Elektra. “Is there anything else you’d like?”

“Stay right where you are,” says Vanessa. “I want to try something.” And gracefully she moves back down Elektra’s body, smirking all the while.

“Alright,” says Elektra, staying still as ordered but smirking back. “I’m intrigued.”

Casually, Vanessa runs a hand down Elektra’s body, stopping to brush over each of her nipples before dipping lower. “And still?”

Elektra trembles just slightly when Vanessa touches her nipples, but she remains still. “Yes,” she gasps.

“Good girl,” Vanessa hums. She teases around Elektra’s hips and upper thighs, looking for all the world like she’s being absentminded. It’s a test.

Elektra bites her lip, but holds herself still, and manages to say teasingly, “Having fun?”

“I am,” Vanessa says. “I imagine you are too, but you could be having more fun, isn’t that right?”

“I suppose,” says Elektra idly. “Whatever you like.”

“I think I’d like to see you feel as nice as you made me feel,” Vanessa declares. “But there are a couple of conditions.”

“Oh?”

“Keep staying exactly where you are,” Vanessa says. “And lovely as the sounds you make are, I don’t trust them not to tip someone off to our activities without my thighs to muffle them.”

Elektra sighs and pouts a bit, but she replies, “I suppose I can try that. What happens if I make a mistake?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Vanessa shrugs. “I really do want to see you happy tonight, though. I can’t imagine the consequences would be lasting.”

“Well, hopefully we won’t have to find out,” Elektra says. “I’ll do my best to be good.”

Vanessa smiles indulgently. “I know you will,” she replies. “Would you like me to go a bit lower?”

“Please?” breathes Elektra. “I’d like that very much.”

“I figured as much,” Vanessa laughs. Still coyly, she moves to dip a finger into Elektra, just one, just testing the waters (as it were).

Elektra’s lips part and she exhales just slightly, but doesn’t react otherwise.

“Good,” Vanessa murmurs, laughing softly. She slips another finger in, uses her thumb to trace circles over Elektra’s clit.

“That’s nice,” murmurs Elektra. “I am allowed to talk, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” Vanessa says. “I find I like your voice, I would just rather not share it with everyone else.”

Elektra laughs. “I’m happy to share it with you.”

“Thank you,” Vanessa hums. “You’re surprisingly sweet, aren’t you.” It’s not really a question.

“Depends on the person. For you, yes.”

“And will that continue?” Vanessa asks.

“If you’d like it to,” replies Elektra.

“I very much would,” Vanessa says. “I enjoy your company.”

Elektra smiles. “I like yours too. You’re quite…” She pauses to gasp softly, because Vanessa is doing something new with her fingers. “... _something_.”

“Something,” Vanessa repeats, amused. “I’m flattered.”

“I’m usually a bit more coherent,” pants Elektra. “When I’m not…”

“Not having such a good time?” Vanessa suggests. She’s moved back up to Elektra’s clit, tracing random patterns.

Elektra has to bite her lip to keep from whimpering. She’s finally able to gasp, “Yes, that.”

“A little bit of noise would be all right,” Vanessa says, working harder and faster. “Carefully.”

In response, Elektra lets out a soft moan. “Thank you,” she says.

“Mm, you’re welcome,” Vanessa murmurs. “You’ve been very brave tonight, you deserve something nice.”

“Glad you think so,” purrs Elektra. “I was…” She interrupts herself with a groan. “...showing off a bit for you.”

“Were you really?” Vanessa laughs. “Do you think you could keep that up?”

Elektra hums as if she’s thinking about it. “What would you like?”

“If you could show me, like you’ve been doing, how exactly you feel,” Vanessa says, and she’s increasing her efforts.

“I’ll do my best,” gasps Elektra, her breathing ragged. She moans softly.

“Wonderful,” Vanessa murmurs. “Do you like this better…” She spends a few seconds playing with Elektra’s clit. “Or this?” She turns her attention to finding Elektra’s g-spot.

Elektra chuckles. “Both are nice, but the second, maybe?” The last word is more of a drawn out groan.

Vanessa nods, and for some moments she just focuses on that, listening to Elektra’s breathing and watching all of the ways she tries not to move. But just when Elektra’s right about there, Vanessa smirks and pulls her hand away.

A whimpering sort of sound slips out of Elektra. “Why’d you stop?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Vanessa murmurs, affecting a fake pout.

“Yes,” replies Elektra, pouting right back. “But you don’t have to be mean about it.”

“I’m not, darling,” Vanessa says, leaning down to kiss Elektra gently.

Elektra whines a bit. “More?”

“More what?” Vanessa prompts, starting to kiss down Elektra’s throat.

“Touch me more,” sighs Elektra. “Please?”

“Oh, you mean like this?” Vanessa asks, squeezing Elektra’s breast playfully.

That makes Elektra sigh and arch her back just slightly. “That’s a start,” she teases, but her voice sounds a little strained.

“Not enough for you?” Vanessa teases right back.

“More would be nice, if you’d like.”

“Should I go lower?” Vanessa hums.

“Yes please,” purrs Elektra, looking as innocent as possible.

Vanessa laughs, kisses Elektra’s stomach. “So pretty,” she murmurs.

“Thank you,” Elektra sighs. “You flatter me.”

“You deserve that, I think,” Vanessa says. “You’re being so sweet.”

“I’d like to be, for you.”

“What a treat,” Vanessa giggles. “Perhaps I should…” And she drops her hand down between Elektra’s legs again, grinning.

Elektra hisses, “ _Yes_ , yes, yes please…” She’s trying very hard to keep her body still.

“Oh, you’re being so very good,” Vanessa murmurs. “You deserve a treat, don’t you?”

“Please?” Elektra whimpers.

“You’ve done so well, darling,” Vanessa hums, sliding her hand up Elektra’s center. “Do you want it just like before?”

“Yes,” says Elektra, nodding ever so slightly. “I want you.”

“Mm, how sweet,” Vanessa says, slowly slipping two fingers into Elektra and resuming her earlier activities.

Elektra sighs and closes her eyes for a moment, smiling. “Thank you.”

“Lovely, lovely,” Vanessa hums, speeding up.

It’s not long after that before Elektra comes, and spectacularly. She barely manages to bite down on her lip and keep herself from screaming, instead letting out a series of whimpers that she tries to keep as quiet as possible.

And Vanessa just grins and grins, not stopping until she knows for a fact Elektra is done. Then she pulls her fingers out, sucks the wetness off them, and murmurs, “Now wasn’t that better for the waiting?”

Elektra, panting, just laughs. “I _suppose_ ,” she says once she’s gotten her breath back. “You’re very good with those hands of yours.”

“I have practice,” Vanessa shrugs cheerfully. “Glad to know it pays off.”

“Anything else you’d like? I don’t want to seem ungrateful,” Elektra adds with a smirk.

`”Not just yet,” Vanessa says. “But I would so hate for this to be a one-time occurrence.”

Shaking her head, Elektra replies, “I certainly hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“Oh, I’m so glad,” Vanessa hums. Without any warning, she lowers herself down beside Elektra and drapes an arm across her waist possessively. “So many of the people here are just… _dull_.”

Elektra settles against her, grinning. “I’ve managed to meet some interesting people, but I believe you. You’re certainly the furthest thing from dull.”

“There are some,” Vanessa says. “But none, until now, that I actually wanted to…”

“Get to know better?” Elektra finishes, raising her eyebrow in a way that makes her meaning unmistakable.

“As such,” Vanessa chuckles. “At least in any meaningful way.” Meaningful, too, is accompanied by a pointed look.

“Well, I’m honored,” hums Elektra, reaching to run her fingers through Vanessa’s hair.

“Mm, that’s nice,” Vanessa says, clearly meaning the hand in her hair. “I take it you’d be amenable to such an arrangement?”

Elektra nods. “I’d like that very much.”


	27. and we would leave with tears and smiles, thinking this is how we want to feel all the time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nebula and Carina have an unconventional wedding night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows [but then you found me and everything changed and I believe in something again](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/19752685>but%20then%20you%20found%20me%20and%20everything%20changed%20and%20I%20believe%20in%20something%20again</a>.).

“Turn around,” Carina says once they’re in the bedroom.

Nebula frowns. “Um, okay,” she says, doing so. “What’s up?”

“I got something for you,” Carina murmurs, shyer than she intends to be. She wrestles with her dress, kicks off her shoes, and says, “See?”

Nebula stares at her and the lacy lingerie she’s wearing. Then she smirks. “I mean, you know I don’t get the point of any of that, but you look nice.”

“The point is looking nice,” Carina says, a little impatient but smirking herself.

“Well, you do,” says Nebula, coming over to put her arms around her. “I mean I always think you’re pretty.”

“Thank you,” Carina murmurs, wiggling a bit closer. “That’s silly, but it’s important to me.”

“Yeah, I know,” says Nebula, pausing to step back and start to unbutton her vest. “Here, lemme get out of this. I’m just wearing like, the same bra I’ve been wearing for two days. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Carina replies, giggling. “I always think you’re pretty too.”

Nebula huffs a laugh. “Good, ‘cause you’re stuck with me.”

“Mm, do you see me complaining?” Carina teases.

“No,” says Nebula, reaching to pet Carina’s hair while one arm snakes around her waist again. “You good to get in bed?”

“Yeah,” Carina agrees. “Sounds nice. We still have to get up tomorrow and do normal things.”

Nebula scoffs. “That’s dumb. I’d rather hang out with you.”

“I know,” Carina says with a playful sigh. “We should go somewhere for a weekend sometime.”

“Yeah? Like where?” Nebula gently herds Carina over to the bed and pushes the covers back so they can climb in.

“I have no idea,” Carina says. “Where do you wanna go?”

Nebula shrugs. “Not a tourist trap. I dunno. Somewhere we can hang out and nobody bothers us.”

“Warm or cold?” Carina asks.

“It’s already getting cold here,” Nebula points out, lying down in bed and pulling up the covers around them. “So warmer, I guess.”

“I can’t imagine you at the beach,” Carina admits.

Nebula wrinkles her nose. “Ew. No. Too much sun and sand and children. Just like, sixty degrees is fine.”

“So probably somewhere out of state?” Carina suggests.

“Yeah. I mean, if we can. I guess that might be expensive. Maybe I can bug Gamora about chipping in as a Christmas present or something.”

“Maybe,” Carina murmurs. “I mean, we don’t have to go right away. We could save up.”

Nebula nods. “Might be smart. Plus then we have time to find a place that isn’t lame.”

“Yeah,” Carina agrees. “Wouldn’t be much of a honeymoon if you spent the whole time complaining.”

That makes Nebula laugh. “You should be used to that by now,” she teases, nuzzling Carina’s shoulder.

“I am,” Carina says, grabbing Nebula’s hand. “But honeymoons are supposed to be fun and carefree, or something.”

“Yeah, I guess. I dunno. I hadn’t thought about it, I guess. I didn’t think I’d get that far with anyone. It always seemed kinda dumb.”

“Or just unattainable,” Carina muses. “I never thought I’d find someone who didn’t get tired of me, or just… pushed off by stuff.”

Nebula nods. “Yeah. I mean, you’re one of the only people I’ve never felt like being an asshole to.”

“Never ever?” Carina asks.

“I mean, I’ve probably been an asshole to you but I never _wanted_ to be,” Nebula clarifies.

“I don’t think you have, really,” Carina says. “You never push my buttons on purpose, which is more than I can say for most people.”

Nebula smirks. “Good, I guess. I don’t like it when you’re upset. Makes me feel punch-y.”

“I hope you’re actually prepared to punch my coworker,” Carina sighs. “Because once he figures this out, he’s going to be nothing but a dick.”

“Oh hell yes. He does anything at all, just lemme know. I’ll take care of him.” Nebula pulls Carina closer.

“I mean, he already doesn’t think we’re legitimate, probably,” Carina continues.

“Nope. He doesn’t know about either of us being ace, right?”

“I don’t think so,” Carina says. “I know he knows I’m not, like, _into_ sexy stuff, but I think he probably just thinks I’m a prude.”

Nebula snorts. “Well, next time he looks at you funny I’m gonna shove that stupid smirk up his ass.”

“That sounds funny,” Carina says.

“Well, I mean it,” says Nebula, grinning.

“I like it when you get all vengeful,” Carina giggles.

“Good. It’s kinda my job now that you’re my wife, I guess.”

“Then it’s mine too,” Carina declares.

“Thanks,” murmurs Nebula. “That’d be funny. I don’t think anyone else would expect it.”

“Well, we both know I have enough rage to make it work,” Carina says sweetly.

“Yeah. That’s another reason I like you,” says Nebula, starting to draw circles on Carina’s back. “You’re as pissed off as me, you just hide it better.”

Carina sighs happily and flops an arm over Nebula’s waist. “Most of the time,” she points out.

“Yeah, but it’s cute. Also, more fun when you actually get super pissed off about something. People act like it’s shocking.”

“Well, to a lot of them it is, I guess,” Carina says.

“I kinda like it being a thing only I know about,” says Nebula. “And I guess group, a little, but.”

“It’s because I trust you,” Carina murmurs.

“Thanks. I like that.” Nebula strokes her hair. “You too.”

“Thank you,” Carina says.

Nebula nods. They’re both quiet a moment, then she says with a smirk, “It’s funny how we’re the first of the under-thirty crowd to get hitched.”

“Well, you’re the one who proposed,” Carina teases.

“Yeah, yeah. A half-assed one anyway. I’m sure whoever’s next will actually give a shit about their proposal.”

“Yours got the job done,” Carina says.

“Yeah. How long you think it’ll take for everybody to figure it out?”

“It took how long for everyone to figure out Victoria and hers?” Carina asks playfully.

“Like four months or something. They don’t both work at the mall, though,” points out Nebula.

“Well, you don’t _technically_ work at the mall,” Carina points out.

“Point. But I’m in there enough.”

“Mm, true,” Carina says. “I kind of get the feeling that most of them don’t want to look at you for too long or else you’ll attack them, though. In their minds.” It’s meant fondly.

Nebula smirks. “I might not. Depends on what else they’re doing.”

“That’s not something most of them know, though,” Carina says.

“I guess. Maybe they’ll all be too freaked out to say anything even if they do figure it out.” Nebula looks almost too pleased by this idea.

“To you,” Carina corrects. “I kind of doubt anyone would be reticent with me. Maybe they’d be nice about it, gentle, but…”

Nebula narrows her eyes. “If anybody makes you feel weird about it, send ‘em to me, okay?”

“Yeah,” Carina murmurs. “I mean, I don’t think they _would_ , but. I get the feeling some of them kind of handle me with care.”

“You don’t really need it,” scoffs Nebula, “but I guess it’s better than being an asshole to you.”

“I mean, they’ve… at least some of them, have seen me explode,” Carina sighs. “I don’t blame them for wanting to avoid a repeat.”

“Yeah, makes sense.” Nebula leans in to kiss her cheek. “Love you, by the way.”

“Love you too,” Carina hums. “I like this.”

“‘S nice,” agrees Nebula. “Wanna kiss?”

“Okay!” Carina exclaims, blushing a little. “You start?”

“You don’t have to be shy about it,” teases Nebula, leaning in to kiss her gently at first.

“M’not shy,” Carina murmurs against Nebula’s lips. “About that. Just…” Though she can’t say it articulately, she’s just not good at taking the lead. Nebula knows that. Nebula understands.

“Yeah, I know,” says Nebula, kissing her again and running her hand down Carina’s back.

Carina sighs happily, pressing a bit closer. “You’re warm,” she says softly.

“You can go put a shirt on if you’re cold,” Nebula says with a smirk.

“I’m not,” Carina retorts. “Just, you’re warm and it’s nice.”

“Good,” says Nebula. She kisses her a little more firmly, nipping at Carina’s lips.

“Thank you,” Carina whispers.

“Mhm,” hums Nebula, reaching to casually cup one of Carina’s breasts in the hand that’s not stroking her back.

“Ooh,” Carina murmurs, smiling. She likes this for the same reason she likes showing off in lingerie occasionally: not out of any sexual desire, but because it’s nice to feel pretty and to feel wanted.

They kiss for a little while, just affectionate and gentle, and then Nebula pauses to ask, “You planning on taking that off anytime soon?” She nods to the bra. “Can’t be comfortable to sleep in.”

“Heh,” Carina says, “probably should. You care if I just throw it on the floor?”

“Psh, no. That’s where mine is.”

Carina chuckles, reaching behind herself to unhook her bra and dispose of it. “Cool,” she says. “We can pick them up in the morning.”

“Sounds good,” says Nebula, putting her hand back on Carina’s breast. “Anything else you want?”

“This is good,” Carina murmurs. “I’m comfy.”

“Yeah, me too.” Nebula nuzzles her neck. “Thanks for… y’know. Everything.”

“Yeah,” Carina echoes. “You’re pretty amazing, y’know.”

Instead of saying _ew_ , Nebula just grunts and mutters, “Yeah, well, same to you.”

“I know you mean it when you say it,” Carina teases.

“Yeah, I do,” says Nebula. “You… I actually wanna say that sappy stuff to you.”

“Which I think is amazing,” Carina says. “And it’s really special.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nebula replies, but she’s smiling. “Hey, so I actually thought of a place I wanna go.”

“Uh-huh?” Carina prompts.

“I can’t remember the name of it but there’s this like… weird museum in Philadelphia where they have all sorts of fucked-up medical stuff. Organs and skulls and shit. They’ve got slides of Einstein’s brain. And I mean, it’s Philly so they’ve got art museums and stuff for you. We can google and shit, there’s gotta be something.”

“That could be fun,” Carina muses. “It’d be different, anyway. And we could walk around holding hands and stuff.”

“I guess,” says Nebula. She starts petting Carina’s hair. “That’d be okay.”

“Yeah!” Carina says, beaming. “I think so.”

“Cool. I guess we can start figuring that out later.” Nebula kisses her again.

“Okay,” Carina says, humming into that kiss. “No… no hurry.”

Nebula smirks. “Getting tired?”

“Maybe a little,” Carina admits.

“Lemme get the light,” says Nebula, sliding out of bed to turn off the overhead light and then turn on the lamp next to her bed so she can see to get back in. “Bedtime?” she asks, pulling Carina close again.

“Bedtime sounds nice,” Carina murmurs, punctuating it with a yawn.

Nebula turns out the lamp and snuggles against her. “Night, wife,” she murmurs fondly.

“Night, wife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The museum Nebula's talking about is the Mütter Museum, which seems right up her alley.


	28. and in the end it is a brighter day, there's just a few words I gotta say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Candace have a nice romantic evening where nobody bothers them.

“Hey,” Claire calls, kicking off her shoes at the door. “I’m here.”

“Hey!” Candace says, grinning. “Phone’s off? Everything good to go?”

Claire holds up her phone, screen black. “Switched it off the second I got off the bus,” she says with a wry smile. “I’m not letting a damn thing interrupt us tonight.”

“Awesome,” Candace hums, leaning in for a kiss.

Claire pulls her close, sighing into her mouth. “You look cute,” she says once they’ve stopped kissing.

“Thanks,” Candace says, brushing her hair back. “I kinda just threw something on after work, but I’m glad it… works. For you.” She smiles a little sheepishly.

“It does,” Claire assures her. “Where should I put this?” She holds up the paper bag she brought  with wine in it.

“Kitchen?” Candace suggests. “Kitchen sounds good.”

Claire wanders over to put it on the counter, then glances at Candace. “So what do you wanna do for dinner? I mean I know you said no cooking, but what kind of takeout and stuff.”

“Takeout pretty much comes down to pizza or Chinese if we don’t want to actually have to go take it out ourselves,” Candace points out.

“Chinese is fine,” says Claire, grinning. “I’ll get chow mein and spring rolls.”

“Perfect,” Candace says. “In the meantime, come sit.” She heads in the direction of the couch and motions for Claire to follow.

So Claire does, sitting down next to Candace and resting her head on Candace’s shoulder for a moment. “Thanks for this,” she says. “I love my friends, even if they’re idiots and get themselves into trouble way too much, but I needed a break.”

Candace nods. “You deserve a chance to just relax,” she says.

“Especially when I’ve got a cute girl to spend the night with,” teases Claire.

“Yeah, that helps too,” Candace grins. “You’re always fun, but you’re more fun when you’re not stressing out.”

“Sorry. I try not to show it too much around you, but I guess I’m not very good at it. Nurse life.” Claire snorts. “And I’m not even a real nurse yet. Though I feel like I _should_ be, considering how often I end up doing it while not on the clock.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Candace says firmly. “I just like it better when you’re all happy and shit.” She smirks. “It makes it nicer for both of us. But I don’t blame you for the less-nice moments.”

“Thanks. Means a lot that you’re cool with it.” Claire kisses her cheek. “You can order the food if you want, I’m done angsting.”

“Of course,” Candace says. “Gimme a second.” She pulls up the number for a good Chinese place and calls in the order, then leans back against Claire. “I wanna help, okay?”

Claire hums fondly, reaching to pet Candace’s hair. “You do,” she says. “Honestly it’s nice to have one person in my life who I know is never gonna come knocking at my door at weird hours needing medical assistance. And that that person is also someone who wants to make out with me,” she adds with a laugh.

“Well, I do want that,” Candace agrees. “You’re pretty great to make out with.”

“Thanks,” says Claire with a chuckle. “Glad you think so. But yeah, there’s a reason I haven’t brought you around my other friends much. I don’t want you falling down the rabbit hole of bad decisions.”

“Hey, I’m not that easily influenced,” Candace insists. “I’m terrible in a fight, too.”

“So are some of the idiots who ask me for help.” Claire smirks. “You know what I mean though. It’s mostly selfish. Besides, I like having you to myself.”

Canace preens. “Fair,” she says. “Well, tonight you do. It’s just us.”

Claire leans over to give her a kiss. “You’re sweet.”

“You need a little more sweet in your life, I think,” Candace declares. “You put up with a lot of shit.”

“It’s nice to have somebody notice and give a shit,” chuckles Claire. “I do want to help people, but goddamn. It gets ridiculous sometimes.”

“What’s the craziest thing that’s ever happened?” Candace asks.

“From folks I don’t personally know and interact with regularly, we had a guy come into the clinic with a vibrating dildo up his ass once. It was still vibrating. It apparently vibrated for six hours total. Pretty impressive battery life.” Claire grins. “He was a good sport about it, very chill.”

“Christ,” Candace mutters. “Why would anyone do that?”

Shrugging, Claire replied, “He was jerking off and underestimated, I guess. At least that was just a dildo. Linnea said she got a guy with a screwdriver stuck up there awhile back.”

“ _Christ_ ,” Candace repeats. “That’s ridiculous. Maybe don’t stick things in your ass unsupervised. Maybe that’s the solution.”

“You’d think,” says Claire wryly. “Hell, they even make stuff that’s _supposed_ to go up there. I guess they couldn’t be fucked, though. Pun intended.”

“Ha,” Candace snorts. “You’re cute.”

“Thanks,” hums Claire. “As for my _actual_ friends, four of them chased Kara’s dickhead ex out into the desert in a car and then beat the shit out of him. Bobbi got a concussion.”

“Damn,” Candace hums. “I’m guessing you mean the dead guy, though I’m guessing this wasn’t the thing that killed him considering they’re still hanging out.”

Claire nods and replies, making a strange face, “Yeah, the person who killed him...definitely not still hanging out. Y’know.”

“Do I know?” Candace asks, not sure if this is funny or not.

“You shouldn’t, anyway, for your own good.” Claire smirks.

“Well, okay then,” Candace says. Sometimes she genuinely wonders what’s up with this town, but then she realizes it’s probably what’s up with every town and she just didn’t notice in other places because she was a naive baby when she lived in them. “Still, I hate to say it, but there’s probably a compliment in your being called on so often.”

“Maybe,” says Claire, “or maybe Linnea’s just too smart to answer her phone during off-hours.”

“Still, you aren’t the only nursing students in town,” Candace says.

“Yeah, but I am the one who’s the biggest pushover.” Claire means it as a joke, but it comes out a little self-deprecating.

“Or you’re just really good at what you do,” Candace suggests, going to answer the knock at the door. It’s the delivery person, and she breezes through the transaction politely as possible before turning back toward Claire with bags of food.

“Nice of you to say so,” says Claire, grabbing a container from her to open it. “My god, this smells good.”

“Thank you for actually appreciating food,” Candace says. “Or more specifically, eating food. I don’t care about that fancy-ass gourmet shit, but it’s always a bummer when you’re out with someone who acts like eating is a chore. Or worse, like eating is nasty.”

Claire snorts fondly. “You kidding? My mama wouldn’t have let me think that way even if I wanted to.”

“So you do know what I mean, at least,” Candace chuckles. “Oh, or there’s the guys who’ll chow down but the second _you_ do it’s some catastrophe.”

“Oh god,” groans Claire. “Those douchebags are the worst. I mean, that’s one point in Matt’s favor, he doesn’t critique your food habits unless it’s got a really strong smell or something.”

“That’s something,” Candace agrees. “Oh, or - I’m sure you know these people, you’re aiming at healthcare - the crazy fad diet and health scam people. It’s like, no, thanks, I’d really rather _not_ stir beet powder into my drinking water to gain its magical benefits.”

Even though she’s got a mouthful of food, Claire makes a face. She swallows and nods. “Ridiculous. Just, just eat decent food, it’s not that hard.”

“And if you eat crap every once in awhile don’t beat yourself up about it,” Candace adds. “The world’s not gonna end if you eat some fries without taking a goddamn carb-blocker pill.”

“Ugh,” Claire says cheerfully, taking some rice from one of the containers. “At least nobody’s judging us here.”

“Amen to that,” Candace declares.

They keep eating for a while, snarking back and forth, and Claire says at one point, “Also, I swear Matt’s got nine lives. He should definitely have been dead at least twice by now.”

“All your friends are like stray cats,” Candace snorts. “You just gotta stop feeding them if you want them to leave you alone.”

“Yeah, but then they might die or something and I’d feel responsible,” sighs Claire.

“They’re not stupid enough to die,” Candace counters.

Claire laughs. “I honestly don’t know sometimes. It’s a hard call.”

“Well,” Candace begins, bumping Claire with her foot, “nobody’s gonna die tonight. Promise.”

“Thanks,” says Claire, smiling. “I worry too much about them. Anyway. How’s work going?”

“Well, let me just say I’m thankful for caller ID,” Candace says. “Otherwise I’d wind up being Shades’ girl Friday or some shit, and I shudder to imagine it.”

“That bad, huh?”

“He’s just a dumbass,” Candace laughs. “But he’s a dumbass who’s desperate for approval.”

“Okay. That’s not so bad. He’s not like, messing with you or anything is he? You’re not in trouble?”

“Hell no,” Candace says. “He’s just delusional. Always hitting me up at work for lady advice. I can only imagine it’d be the same in texts.”

Claire tilts her head. “I thought you said he was seeing somebody? Some mysterious lady who never darkens the door of the Starbucks?”

“Oh, that’s who he wants the advice about,” Candace agrees. “Apparently she’s very high-class, not the sort he’s used to, so he’s always got questions. What if this, what if that. I’m still not sure she’s real.” She snorts. “He doesn’t have photo evidence because she’s ‘really private, okay?’”

“I mean, I guess I don’t have that many pictures of you, but that’s still a weird thing to say.” Claire grins and adds, “You sure this isn’t a sugar mama situation? Nothing wrong with that but from what you’ve been saying it would kinda make sense.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Candace says. “If she’s real, and she really is the mayor of somewhere like he claims, that’d be the only reasonable solution.”

“Hope he has a good time with her,” snarks Claire. “But not _too_ good.”

“She’s got him wrapped around her finger, if he’s telling the truth,” Candace points out. “Beyond that, I don’t wanna know.”

Claire shrugs. “Takes all kinds, I guess. Good luck with that.”

Candace nods. “You about done here?” she asks. “I was thinking we could…”

“Fool around?” Claire finishes, grinning. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“I keep thinking you have some crazy fun idea in mind,” Candace says suggestively. “You were all hush-hush about your specific intentions. Plus, I don’t think that paper bag is empty yet.”

Chuckling, Claire shakes her head. “It’s not. I can help you put the leftovers in the fridge and then we’ll head to the bedroom?”

“Perfect,” Candace says.

They pack everything away carefully but quickly, and Candace keeps shooting Claire little flirtatious glances because, hey, two can play that teasing game. Claire responds by running her hand down Candace’s arm and back several times, half idly, half possessively.

“I like it when you do that,” Candace finally murmurs. “Feels good. Like you’ve got me, or some sentimental shit like that.”

“Aw, cute,” says Claire. “I do, but mostly I just like touching you.”

“Hey, I’ll take that, too,” Candace chuckles. She turns around to plant a kiss on Claire’s cheek.

Claire hums, satisfied, and pulls Candace close for a kiss on the lips. “You good to take this somewhere else?” she murmurs.

“Please,” Candace agrees, heading toward the bedroom and starting to tug her sweater off.

“Ooh, dinner and a show,” jokes Claire as she follows Candace, mysterious paper bag in hand. Once they’re inside Candace’s bedroom, she sets the bag down on the bed and starts to unbutton her shirt.

“I expect the same from you,” Candace says sweetly, dropping her sweater and going for the zipper on her skirt.

Once Claire’s undone all her buttons, she whips off her shirt with a flourish and grins at Candace. “How’s that for starters?”

“Not bad, not bad,” Candace replies, resting against her bureau and nodding for Claire to continue.

Claire works her jeans down, trying for sexy and probably coming off more ridiculous, before kicking them off and reaching to unfasten her bra. “I’ve never actually done a striptease or anything,” she says with a laugh. “Forgive me if it’s a little lackluster.”

“I think it’s cute,” Candace hums. “You’re trying so hard.”

“I’d hate to disappoint a lady,” says Claire, slipping off her underwear and then striking what is probably a stupid pose.

Candace just laughs and pounces, pinning Claire to the bed in what she hopes is a playful and sexy way. “You could never,” she says.

“Glad to hear it,” says Claire, leaning up for a kiss. “So, you wanna look in the bag or you want me to show you?”

“Show me,” Candace says.

“Mm, gonna have to let me up then,” murmurs Claire. “Not that I mind this at all.”

“Fine,” Candace says, rolling onto her back. “But more later, yeah? It’s kinda fun getting on top.”

“I’d like that,” Claire says, stroking Candace for a second before grabbing the bag and pulling out a black vibrator that kind of looks like a slightly more curved, shorter dildo with a large oval base. “So Bobbi recommended this to me. I tried it out, it’s pretty good if you like g-spot stuff. I think I can probably use it on your clit too, if you’d rather that.”

“Ooh,” Candace murmurs. “Let’s try a little of both?”

Claire nods, pressing herself against Candace to kiss her again. “Gotta get you warmed up first though,” she says, kissing Candace’s neck.

“Mm, yeah,” Candace says. “Let’s keep doing that.” Kissing, she means, as evidenced by her hand in Claire’s hair keeping her in place.

So Claire does, kissing and nipping all over Candace’s neck and shoulders slowly. Then she moves down to her breasts, starting to cover them in kisses too. “You’re so goddamn pretty,” she breathes.

“God,” Candace breathes. “You’re pretty _and_ sweet.”

“Thanks,” hums Claire, starting to suck on one of her breasts.

Candace bites back a moan. “God,” she repeats. “That’s so good.”

Claire makes a satisfied noise in the back of her throat and keeps it up, kneading her other breast with her hand.

“Keep going,” Candace pants. “Please, Claire?”

“Ooh, that’s nice,” murmurs Claire, switching to kiss the other breast. “I wouldn’t complain if you wanted to keep that up.”

Candace snorts. “You want me to beg?”

“You don’t have to go over the top with it or anything, but sure. It’s cute.”

“Fine,” Candace says, though she’s not really put out. “Please, do more of that? It’s so good.”

“Alright,” says Claire with a laugh, taking the nipple into her mouth. She hums contentedly.

“ _God_ ,” Candace moans. “You’re a fucking tease, but I like it.”

Claire doesn’t respond right away except to chuckle and continue to play with Candace’s breasts. After a minute or two, she starts to kiss down her body slowly. “S nice,” she says softly.

“Thanks,” Candace says, somewhat amused. “I’m glad, or something.”

Once Claire kisses over Candace’s stomach, she gently runs her fingers over her center. “Seems like this has been working pretty well for you,” she teases.

“No need to get arrogant about it,” Candace retorts cheerfully.

“I think I can be a little arrogant,” replies Claire, nuzzling at her thighs. “You’re pretty wet.”

“True,” Candace hums. “You like that?”

“I do,” Claire says, giving her a couple of quick experimental licks before saying, “It’s pretty gratifying.”

“Mm, good,” Candace says. “You oughta feel nice.”

“You too. You ready for this thing?” Claire holds up the toy, then makes a face. “That sounded ridiculous, sorry.”

Candace laughs. “It was funny. You’re cute.”

Claire snorts and replies, “Well, thanks. Serious question though, do you want me to start using this now?”

“Yeah,” Candace says. “That sounds nice.”

Turning on the toy to the lowest setting, Claire starts to move it around Candace’s center sort of idly, just seeing how she reacts to it. “Good, more, slower?”

“Good verging on more?” Candace says.

Claire nods and presses a little harder, making small circular movements with the tip of the toy. “How’s that?”

“That’s nice,” Candace hums. “Good start.”

“Okay,” murmurs Claire. She starts to circle Candace’s clit. “And this?”

“Yeah,” Candace says, taking a long breath. “Yeah, keep doing that awhile, maybe.”

Claire grins and keeps it up. “Can do,” she says, reaching to play with Candace’s breast.

“You’re being so sweet,” Candace whispers. “God, I’m gonna have to be on my A-game.”

That makes Claire laugh. “I mean, you know some of what I like. I think you’ll be fine.”

“Still,” Candace says. “You’re really… this is really nice.”

“Good. I want this to be nice for you. Especially since you’re my first girl.” Claire shrugs, sort of self-depreciating. “Still kinda learning the ropes here.”

Candace smirks. “You’re doing fine, I promise,” she says. “Honestly, I think girls are easier to please than guys a lot of the time, if you understand how their bodies work. Luckily, girls have kind of a home-court advantage.”

“That is a weird metaphor to break out during sex,” snickers Claire. “But yeah. I mean, by this point I know how to treat various kinds of junk, but it is easier being able to guess what you’ll like from personal experience.”

“It got the point across, right?” Candace says. “That, and your comfort level, are what matters.”

“Yeah, true.” Claire pauses her movements and asks, “You ready for the g-spot stuff yet, or more of this?”

“Little bit more,” Candace suggests.

Claire clicks the vibrator up to the next setting and lazily moves it around. “You’re gorgeous.”

“You,” Candace replies, rolling her hips. “That’s good.”

“Yeah? I think I’d like to hear a little more about that,” teases Claire.

“About what, how you’re making me feel incredible?” Candace asks.

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Okay,” Candace says. “Well, you went outta your way to find something fun to play with, and you’re figuring it out, and like I said, it feels incredible.”

Claire smiles. “Good.” She moves the toy down to circle Candace’s entrance.

“God, yeah,” Candace murmurs. “Please, more of that.”

“I can do that.” Claire keeps circling it, petting Candace’s thigh with her other hand.

“Inside?” Candace asks, unashamedly needy.

So Claire starts to slip the toy inside her girlfriend, careful to go slow. “I would normally use lube, but you don’t even need any, I don’t think,” she says, grinning.

“Flattering, I think?” Candace giggles.

“It means I’m doing my job right,” says Claire, moving the toy in and out slowly. “How’s that?”

“So good,” Candace says. “I hope this is more than just a job, though.”

“Yeah, of course,” Claire replies, rolling her eyes. “Smartass.”

“You like it,” Candace declares, and there might be more but all she can do right now is let her head fall back and moan.

“That’s pretty,” says Claire, and she starts to move a bit faster. “Wouldn’t complain if you wanted to be a little louder.”

“Okay,” Candace says. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Claire keeps going, and soon Candace shudders and climaxes, louder than ever. “Seems like you enjoyed that,” Claire teases, gently removing the vibrator and then leaning down to kiss Candace.

“Oh my god, yeah,” Candace exclaims. “That was awesome. You’re awesome.” She throws an arm around Claire’s shoulders and tugs her in for a more passionate kiss.

Claire sighs into Candace’s mouth. “Glad to please,” she murmurs.

“You want me to use that on you, too?” Candace asks with a coy smile.

“Sounds nice, yeah. If you wanna.” Claire nuzzles Candace’s neck.

“Yeah,” Candace says. “Give me a sec, okay?”

“Oh, no worries. Take your time.” Claire starts petting Candace’s hair.

Candace rolls her shoulders, beaming. “You sure you’d never used that before?”

“I mean, I tested it out on myself like once, just to make sure it wasn’t a piece of shit, but that was pretty quick.” Claire shrugs. “You’re the lucky first person besides me.”

“Well, I should hope,” Candace teases. “I can’t imagine Matt being into that.”

“He might be, depending on the day,” Claire replies, grinning, “but it wouldn’t be the first thing he’d jump to, no.”

“There is so much I both do and do not wanna know,” Candace says. “But as far as you’re concerned, you have a preference of how I use it?”

“Whatever you feel like,” says Claire, rolling off Candace onto her back. “Either way I’ll get off, so.”

Candace nods. “I’m gonna guess you’re already pretty worked up, huh?”

“Yeah. What can I say, watching you is sexy.”

“Thanks,” Candace grins. “So how about I…” She reaches for the toy, turning it in her hands as she tries to decide what to do.

“You can just stick it in me,” Claire says with a smirk. “If you’re having trouble deciding.”

“Blunt,” Candace replies. “I like it.” So she does just that, twisting it around a little to see what Claire seems to enjoy.

Claire groans contentedly. “That’s nice, goddamn.”

“Where do you like it best?” Candace asks, moving more slowly. “Here? Here?”

“Little deeper? You’re almost there.”

Candace grins and obliges, nodding. With her other hand she plays with Claire’s breasts, again watching for reactions.

Claire squirms happily, breathing faster and faster. “Fuck _yes_ , keep going!”

“Ooh, pretty,” Candace murmurs, blowing a kiss. “You’re fun to unravel.”

Claire laughs and, after not much longer, lets out an especially loud groan as she climaxes. “Holy shit,” she gasps.

“That was quick,” Candace teases, grinning.

After taking a few seconds to recover, Claire laughs again and replies, “Like you said, I was worked up already.”

“Well, either way, I think I’m flattered,” Candace hums, setting the toy down and curling up beside Claire.

Claire pulls her close, kissing her. “Thank you again. This has been really, _really_ nice.”

“I’m glad,” Candace says. “You deserve really, _really_ nice.”

“You too,” says Claire. “You up for another go-round in a bit, or you wanna just cuddle?”

“In a bit,” Candace says, shrugging. “Cuddling is nice.”

“Mm, alright.” Claire nuzzles her. “I could get used to this.”

“Good,” Candace says. “Same here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The vibrator](http://www.shevibe.com/lamourose-rosa-rechargeable-g-spot-vibrator-black.aspx) in question.


	29. love's so big, got no room for hate in me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy and Angie go on their honeymoon to Florence, and stay with some of Angie's family for a few days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neither of us are Italian, so we're very sorry if any of this is accidentally insensitive. Please let us know!

Angie reaches up to knock on the door, then turns to Peggy with a grin. “Be ready,” she says. “They’re kinda crazy. In a good way, but y’know.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Peggy chuckles. “Crazy families are often much more interesting.”

“That’s true,” says Angie, and she seems about to say something else when the door swings open and a tall, skinny man throws his arms around Angie excitedly. “Oof! Hi, Uncle Adriano!”

“So good to see you!” Uncle Adriano says, squeezing her tightly before stepping back and turning to Peggy. “And this must be your lovely bride!”

“I’m Peggy,” says Peggy, holding her hand out for a shake. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

Adriano grabs her hand and pumps it up and down, grinning. “You too! I know we’ve spoken a bit on Skype, but it just isn’t the same, you know? But Angie has told us so much about you, I feel that I already know you!”

Peggy laughs self-effacingly. “I expect that’s a good thing,” she says.

“Your mother would have been so happy for you,” Adriano adds to Angie, and Angie nods, looking sober for a moment (as she always does when talking about either of her dead parents).

“Oh yes!” says a plump curly-haired woman who appears from behind Adriano. “I’m Elisa of course, and we’re so glad to have you!”

Angie hugs her too, and asks, “Is everybody here? Grandma and all the cousins?”

“Well, not _all_ ,” says Elisa. “But our four, yes. Leon made dessert for later!”

“My!” Peggy exclaims, grinning. “I can’t wait to give it a try.”

“Come in, come in,” says Adriano, sweeping them both inside. “I was just finishing up supper, we have places all set for you.”

When they round the corner into the dining room, there are seven other people all seated, three men and four women, all of whom wave or call out greetings. “So,” Angie says, turning to Peggy, “that’s cousin Marco and his wife Olivia, cousin Alessia, cousin Mia and her husband Giacomo, cousin Leon, and Grandma Francesca.” She walks over to give Grandma a kiss on the cheek and speak to her in Italian for a moment, and the old woman exclaims excitedly and says something to Peggy, who smiles back. (She’s learned some basic Italian phrases for the trip, but none of the things Francesca just said.)

“How was your flight?” asks Mia, who (no insult meant) is clearly the more fashionable sister.

“Fine, thanks,” says Angie as they take their seats. “We slept for half of it, since it was so long. Watched a movie, y’know. Pretty normal flight stuff.”

“No screaming babies?” Leon asks, smirking.

“No screaming adult men?” Alessia adds.

“No to both, thankfully,” says Peggy. “It was relatively peaceful, as international flights go.”

“Speaking of international,” chimes in Elisa, not at all subtly, “you’re British, aren’t you, Peggy? However did you meet our Angie?”

“Oh, I’ve lived in the States since university,” Peggy explains. She’s not surprised this is being discussed so early, since she answers similar questions regularly. “It’s not that I don’t miss England, but I’ve made myself a life in America, I can’t imagine getting away from it now.”

“You better not,” teases Angie, grabbing her hand. “But yeah, I started teaching at the same school Peg was at, and we, uh, just really hit it off.” She doesn’t mention Peggy’s dead husband, since even though she’s pretty sure her family wouldn’t care, it’s just not really relevant.

“What do you teach?” Alessia asks.

“History,” Peggy says. “Primarily US history, which amuses my students to no end.”

Giacomo laughs. “That’s pretty funny, yeah. Do you like it?”

“I do,” Peggy agrees. “And I run the mock trial team, too. It’s really very interesting, and Angie’s students and mine overlap because of it.”

“Mock trial?” asks Mia.

“The students are given materials for a pretend court case and assigned to defense or prosecution,” Peggy says. “Then they build cases and argue them just like a real trial. It’s wonderful practice for students with an interest in the law, but it’s also a fair amount of acting and writing, so you really do get all sorts of students involved.”

“Sounds neat!” says Marco. “I was in a play in high school but I don’t think I was very good. Ma recorded it though. I think it’s around here somewhere.”

“I’m sure you were just fine,” Olivia says soothingly, patting her husband’s arm.

Marco shrugs. “Angie’s the real star in this family, and we all know it.” He grins at her. “How’d _RENT_ go anyway?”

“Oh, _so_ well!” chirps Angie. “I’ve been in some community theater productions before, but there’s nothing like putting it on with real teenagers. They really _get_ the material. My kids were amazing!”

“I would expect nothing less,” says Alessia. “You’ve got a knack for inspiring talent, you always have.”

“Aw, shucks,” Angie says, half-serious and half-teasing. “Thanks.”

“It’s true,” Peggy says, squeezing Angie’s hand. “And the kids were more than amazing. I’m sure there’s an illegal video somewhere we could forward onto you.”

“How sneaky,” Leon chuckles.

“Do you act, Peggy?” asks Elisa.

“Not hardly,” Peggy says, brushing hair out of her face. “I don’t doubt Angie could make me look like I knew what I was doing, though.”

Angie nudges her with her shoulder. “Aw, you’d be fine, darlin’. You’re naturally charismatic.”

“I’ll leave the stage for you,” Peggy murmurs. “You’re a big enough star for the both of us.”

“You two seem real sweet,” Giacomo says. “How long you two been together again?”

Peggy laughs, because that both is and isn’t complicated. “About ten years, now,” she says, and she glances to Angie in case she thinks it warrants further explanation (it might not, and that’s fine too, but it’s not her choice to make).

Angie nods. “Give or take, yeah. We’ve been talking about makin’ it official for awhile now, since we can, but then we both finally got off our asses in July and did the asking.”

“It was really quite funny,” Peggy says. “We’d both planned to do it at the same party, with all of our friends. Most of them. Though _she_ went above and beyond, she actually got that party’s host to make us a cake.”

Giggling, Angie pulls out her phone and flips through until she finds a picture, then starts to pass it around. “I thought it was pretty brilliant,” she says cheerfully.

“You’re adorable,” Olivia exclaims. “That’s very inventive of you.” She shoots a look at her husband playfully. “This one wasn’t _completely_ contrived about proposing, but it wasn’t as do-it-yourself as this by a long shot.”

Giacomo chuckles. “C’mon now, I thought it was really nice. It was in the middle of a trip to France!”

“It was, and that was lovely,” Olivia says, “but when you’ve been with a man for two years and he suddenly decides to take you to Paris, it’s fairly obvious what’s going to happen.”

Leon snorts and changes the subject. “So then what _do_ you do for fun, Peggy?”

“I took up kickboxing a couple of years ago,” Peggy says. “And, like any stereotypical history teacher, I’m prone to reading and watching historical things, fiction or no.” She smirks. “I also seem to find myself participating in a fair amount of social activism, though it’s often in reaction to… others.”

“We have a bit of a douchebag problem back at home,” explains Angie. “Mostly racist gangs, but one of our coworkers is the kind of Christian that thinks that means she gets to dictate how everyone else lives. Y’know.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Leon says very broadly. “The worst kind, you mean.”

“Racist gangs?” asks Mia. “Actual, literal racist gangs?”

“Straight from the 1940s,” Peggy says, nodding grimly. “They’re surprisingly prevalent.”

Mia seems both horrified and fascinated, and about to ask more, but Adriano appears with an enormous bowl of pasta and says, “Please, eat!” Fortunately, this distracts everyone from the previous topic.

“Oh, it looks wonderful,” Peggy enthuses. “Thank you so much for cooking.”

“Of course, of course.” Adriano takes a seat next to his wife. “It’s the least I can do for my niece and her new bride.”

“You’re very welcoming,” Peggy assures the entire family. “It’s nice to see.” Especially considering how little actual blood family the newlyweds had present at the wedding. That wasn’t a bad thing, but this is an aspect of the experience they’d been missing.

“And thanks for letting us stay here for a couple of days,” adds Angie. “We got a real nice hotel but it’s sure pricey. Plus, I haven’t seen any of you in forever!”

“We would have been glad to host you the entire time,” says Elisa, eyes twinkling.

“Yeah, but they’re gonna want someplace to have sex, Mom,” points out Marco playfully. “It’s their honeymoon! They don’t want us eavesdropping on everything.”

“Don’t say sex in front of your grandmother,” Elisa hisses through a big fake smile.

Grandma Francesca laughs and says something in Italian, and Marco laughs too. “Hear that, Mom? Grandma definitely knows what sex is and she doesn’t care if you talk about it in front of her,” he adds for Peggy’s benefit.

Peggy laughs behind her hand. “The hotel also has a spa, which we’re looking forward to,” she says, as if to smooth it over some.

“Ooh, that sounds nice,” says Alessia. “Did you have any other plans while you two were here?”

“Lots of sightseeing,” Peggy chuckles. “I’m already getting teased for how much sightseeing I want to fit in.”

“It’s ridiculous!” giggles Angie. “She’s made an itinerary!”

“You have to plan in advance if you want to get anything done,” Peggy counters. “It’s smart traveling.”

“Makes sense,” says Adriano cheerfully. “How’s everything tasting?”

“Oh, terrible,” quips Giacomo with a grin. “Just awful.” He’s already cleared most of his plate.

“Save room for dessert,” Mia says. “We couldn’t decide what you’d like best, so we got a bit of everything.”

Angie groans. “Oh man, it’s a good thing summer tryouts aren’t for a few months. This is so much food!”

“That is the Italian family stereotype, isn’t it?” Alessia teases.

 

* * *

 

“You wish you could teach units on the stuff here, don’t you?” Angie teases.

“I’d be happy teaching any history,” Peggy says, smiling fondly. “It’s all interesting to me. For whatever reason, this isn’t the focus area I wound up with, but I’m going to treat my classes to a slideshow even if it is irrelevant.”

“It’s adorable,” says Angie. “You’re bein’ all teacher-y while you’re not even working.”

“It’s important to have enthusiasm for your job,” Peggy defends.

“Oh, of course. It’s just endearing too.” Angie leans up to kiss Peggy’s cheek.

By now they’re back to the house, and as they let themselves in Elisa calls, “How was the sightseeing?”

Peggy’s beaming when she finds everyone and announces, “It was breathtaking.”

“Of course it was.” Leon sounds oddly proud. “Where’d you go?”

“We started at Palazzo Strozzi,” Peggy says. “Which meant we obviously had to see Palazzo Medici too, for comparison.”

“Obviously,” says Olivia, grinning.

“How did you like them?” asks Leon.

“Thrilling,” says Peggy. “It fascinates me how much of history, and art history in particular, comes down to a contest of egos.”

Adriano laughs. “Yes, that’s a very succinct way of putting it. But at least we have beautiful things to look at because of it.”

“Yes,” Peggy agrees. “At least there’s that.”

“And we went to a chocolate shop for me!” chirps Angie. “They had some _amazing_ gelato.”

“As if it would be anything less,” Alessia laughs.

“And then we walk around some gorgeous gardens and drank wine,” Angie adds, giggling. “I’m still feeling the wine.”

“As you should,” Leon says. “I’m guessing it was everything you wanted, judging by how happy you two seem.”

“It was lovely,” Peggy agrees. “Romantic without being overdone.”

Angie bumps her shoulder. “You think everything’s a little overdone, Peg,” she teases.

“Not everything,” Peggy exclaims, laughing. “I’m just not as extravagant as you.”

“Either way.” Angie leans over to kiss her wife playfully.

Grandma Francesca nudges the closest person (Marco) and asks him something in Italian. Marco replies and then Francesca turns to Angie, beaming, and says something else. Angie laughs and thanks her. “She wanted to know what we were doing,” she explains to Peggy, “and she says she’s very happy for us, and now she wants us to go have a good time, um, in our hotel.”

Peggy bursts out laughing even before Mia points out, grinning, “That’s not _exactly_ what she said.”

 

* * *

 

“We should order wine,” Angie says lazily.

“That sounds wonderful, darling,” Peggy hums, letting them into the hotel room with a flourish.

Angie ambles over to the bed and flops down on it, sighing happily. “I feel great! Those massages were so nice.”

“Mm, yes,” Peggy agrees, coming to perch beside her wife and reach for the telephone. Before she dials, though, she adds, “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling very… melty.”

“Mhm,” murmurs Angie, rolling over so she’s touching Peggy. “Once the wine gets here I wanna get naked.”

“Please,” Peggy murmurs. She hurries to place the order (“may we have a bottle of wine, please” is one of the Italian phrases she’s fully comfortable with) and then glances down, combing her fingers through Angie’s hair. “God, you’re so beautiful I can’t believe it.”

Angie hums and butts her head against Peggy’s hand. “You too, English. I’m a pretty lucky girl.”

“Thank you for waiting for me,” Peggy says with a self-deprecating smile. “Well, and the world. But emotionally, on me.”

“‘Course. Where else was I gonna find someone so wonderful?”

“Flattery,” Peggy says, shaking her head fondly. “You know just how to get to me, don’t you?”

“I better, by now, or I’m pretty bad at this whole partner thing,” teases Angie.

“You’ve always known,” Peggy declares. “Always, since the beginning.”

Angie laughs. “Well, thanks, Peg. You’re pretty good at that, yourself.”

There’s a knock at the door, and Angie reluctantly peels herself off the bed and exchanges brief pleasantries with the woman at the door before coming over to set the bottle of wine and two wine glasses on the bedside table. “Finally,” she says, shucking off her shirt.

Peggy laughs and makes quick work of her own clothing, or anyway all of it but her new lingerie. “I’ve been looking forward to this,” she says, beaming.

“Me too,” replies Angie fondly. “I was kinda disappointed we were both so tired when we got in last night.”

“Well, we’ve got a long night ahead of us,” Peggy declares. “I have a feeling it will be worth the wait.”

Once she’s in her lingerie, Angie pours wine for both of them and hands Peggy a glass. “I’ll make sure of it,” she promises, grinning. “I’m gonna spoil the shit out of you, Peggy Carter.”

“I can’t wait,” says Peggy, taking a sip. “I just thought of something hilarious, by the way. Hypothetical, but hilarious.”

“Oh yeah?” Angie tilts her head.

“Well, we’re not changing our last names, but I just imagined the instance where we did, because someone would almost _certainly_ mistake us for sisters,” Peggy declares.

“Sisters? We’re close!” Angie sing-songs, giggling. “But yeah, probably. That’d be silly.”

“So would hyphenating,” Peggy continues, leaning over to kiss Angie’s cheek.

“Totally. Carter-Martinelli or Martinelli-Carter is such a mouthful.” Angie makes a face.

“Imagine what Miriam would say,” Peggy exclaims. “She’d be horrifying.”

Angie snorts. “God, I don’t even wanna know what she’d do. Probably start calling us ‘you there’ or ‘miss’.”

“Why do I have the feeling that Gert would write one of her scathing exposes for the school paper?” Peggy laughs. “It would be very well-done, of course, but furious.”

“Oh, yeah, of course she would,” nods Angie. “She’d rip Miriam apart. I like that kid. But it’s just as well she won’t have to, I guess, at least not for that.”

Peggy nods. “Thank you for putting up with all of this, incidentally,” she says. “I imagine it would have been easier if you were dating someone who wasn’t just a wing away.”

“Aw, Peg,” says Angie, coming over to kiss her. “Always, okay? I don’t want anybody else.”

“Me either,” Peggy murmurs. “Shall we finish our wine and get started, then?”

Angie nods and sips the rest of her glass, probably too quickly, before grinning at her. “Anytime you’re ready, English.”

Peggy grins. “Panties off, then,” she instructs, rising and going over to her suitcase.

Shimmying out of her panties, Angie tosses them aside and asks, “How d’you want me?”

“Laid out on your back, I think,” Peggy says. “Your legs apart.”

Nodding, Angie arranges herself accordingly. “How’s this?”

“Perfect,” Peggy assures. She pulls a smaller bag out of her luggage and saunters back over, dropping it beside the bed before she climbs up between Angie’s legs. “You’re perfect.”

Angie squirms excitedly and murmurs, “You are, Peggy.”

Peggy presses a kiss between Angie’s breasts. “And delicious,” she adds.

“God, thank you. I wanna be for you,” breathes Angie.

“You are,” Peggy promises, sliding down to kiss Angie’s stomach.

Angie reaches to stroke Peggy’s back. “You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you, darling,” Peggy murmurs, kissing Angie’s abdomen.

“Sure takin’ your time about it though,” whines Angie, but she’s grinning to let Peggy know she’s not serious.

“You know I’m not one for hurrying,” Peggy says, now kissing Angie’s inner thighs.

Angie sighs and nods. “I know,” she says with a pout. “Feels good, anyway.”

“I thought it might,” Peggy teases. “Let’s see if I can’t get you to melt even more, hm?”

“Okay,” gasps Angie, “yeah, that sounds pretty nice. You’re awfully good at it.”

“I like being,” Peggy promises. She takes a moment to worry a spot on Angie’s thigh, watching closely for reactions.

Angie yelps. “Oh, so you feel like _that_ tonight,” she says, eyes gleaming.

“Some, anyway,” Peggy agrees, smirking. “You don’t mind, I take it.”

“Not at all,” sighs Angie happily. “I’m yours, English.”

“And I’m yours,” Peggy says.

“You spoil me, y’know.”

“That’s very much what I want,” Peggy murmurs. “Feeling ready yet?”

Nodding eagerly, Angie spreads her legs a bit more. “Please?”

Peggy laughs, warm and low. “Since you asked so nicely,” she hums, and she moves to kiss Angie’s center.

Angie makes a satisfied noise. “More of that?” she asks sweetly.

So Peggy gives her more of that, happily exploring and listening for what Angie likes best tonight, until Angie reaches to pet Peggy’s back fondly. “Now, now,” Peggy says, pulling back, “don’t worry about doing a single bit of work. You’re supposed to be just enjoying yourself.”

Pouting, Angie protests, “But I like makin’ you feel good too, Peg.”

“You’ll have your turn,” Peggy declares archly, reaching for the little bag she brought over and pulling out a scarf. “Wrists, please.”

“Fine, fine.” Angie offers her wrists, still pouting a bit (though it’s mostly for show). “But only if you’ll do the same for me, just enjoy yourself, I mean.”

“You can have me however you like,” Peggy promises, gently tying the scarf around Angie’s wrists and lowering her arms back against the bed. “Right now, though, I get to steer.”

Angie wriggles back into place and nods. “Go for it, then,” she says with a grin.

Grinning lasciviously, Peggy leans back in and starts sucking on Angie’s clit, humming nonsense as she does.

Angie whines and bucks her hips into Peggy’s mouth. “Jesus, that’s good.”

“Good,” Peggy mumbles, sounding smug. She keeps it up for a few minutes, hands steady on Angie’s hips, almost like she’s curious what Angie will do.

Not bothering to stay still, Angie moves against Peggy, trying to get more friction on her clit. “C’mon,” she gasps.

“Harder?” Peggy teases. “Yet more?”

“Yes please,” whimpers Angie.

Happily, Peggy gives more, harder, until finally Angie shrieks and then melts into the bed again. “Damn,” she says, grinning. “You’re so good at that. Even if you’re a big tease.”

“I just like making it nice for you,” Peggy laughs, sitting back on her knees.

“You’re good at it.” Angie lifts her hands. “Gonna untie me so I can return the favor?”

“I suppose,” Peggy teases, and she reaches to do.

“Should I tie you up too?” asks Angie with a giggle.

“Whatever you like,” Peggy says with an airy shrug.

“Alright. I think I will!” Angie grins. “Wrists?”

Peggy smiles coyly as she offers her wrists. “The best kind of revenge,” she remarks.

Angie nods and secures the scarf before saying, “Now lie back.”

“Yes, darling,” Peggy hums, getting comfortable.

“Thank you.” Angie leans over Peggy, kissing her on the lips and then slowly moving to kiss her neck.

“Mm, thank _you_ ,” Peggy murmurs. “You’re very sweet to me.”

“Wanna be,” says Angie, sucking at a few spots. She slowly makes her way down to Peggy’s breasts, which she also sucks on.

Peggy arches her back, clearly pleased. “Thats so nice,” she whispers.

“Good,” says Angie, moving to the other one. “I like payin’ special attention to these,” she adds before taking it in her mouth.

“I like it too, obviously,” Peggy teases.

Angie stays there for a good long time before kissing down the rest of Peggy’s body and then, without fanfare, starting to lap at her center.

“God, you’re amazing,” Peggy exclaims.

Angie makes a fond noise and starts to lick inside Peggy.

“You’re going to take your time just to spite me, aren’t you?” Peggy asks.

Pausing long enough to say “Maybe” cheekily, Angie licks around Peggy’s clit, but doesn’t actually touch it.

“Good thing I don’t mind that in the slightest,” Peggy declares.

Angie chuckles and keeps licking, running her thumbs along the insides of Peggy’s thighs. “You taste good,” she murmurs.

Happily, Peggy rolls her hips. “Thank you, love,” she says.

After a couple minutes of teasing, Angie starts lapping at her clit aggressively, making little pleased noises as Peggy starts to squirm against her mouth more.

“More,” Peggy moans. “Please?”

Angie laughs and does as requested, swiping her tongue against Peggy’s flesh a bit more roughly.

“Faster,” Peggy insists.

So Angie does, working Peggy up until she positively screams and goes floppy against the bed. “You’re perfect,” she murmurs.

Grinning, Angie cleans her up and then comes up to kiss her on the lips. “You too, English,” she says. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Peggy says. “Always.”


	30. ‘cause you’ll always be a beauty living in my mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their dinner party, Karen and Kara have a slightly belated but private Valentine's celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows [it's comforting how some things never change](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/22085723).

“You decent?” Karen calls from the hallway. “Or, y’know. The intentional opposite.”

There’s a moment of pause before Kara replies, “Yeah, come in!”

And Karen does, and she can’t help it, she cracks up. Hysterically. Like, leaning against the doorframe trying to collect herself laughing. “Holy shit,” she wheezes.

Kara frowns down at herself, puzzled. So “wait for me to get my sexy lingerie on and then come in” might be kind of an obvious gimmick, and maybe she should have asked Karen if she wanted to get a little kinky tonight instead of just laying out the sashes and presuming, but that’s not… funny? Is it? “What’s wrong?” she asks, sounding more pitiful than she likes.

“Hon! Oh, no,” Karen exclaims, though she’s still laughing. “No, you’re gorgeous and we can totally, y’know, just… oh, let me show you.” She unzips her dress and waves to her underwear.

Which is in fact the same lacy-sexy Victoria’s Secret set that Kara is wearing, only Kara’s is red and Karen’s is pink. For the recent holiday, of course.

“Oh,” Kara echoes, starting to laugh too, if more weakly. “We match. Oops.”

“Hashtag ‘femme problems’?” Karen quips. “We can coordinate in the future.”

“I mean, at least they’re different colors,” Kara says. “We just…”

“We look like a lingerie ad,” Karen supplies.

“You do, maybe,” Kara mutters, ducking her head.

Karen winces. She’s still, after all this time, trying to learn how _not_ to put her foot in her mouth sometimes. “Hey,” she murmurs, coming over to sit beside Kara on the bed. “Hey, no, you’re gorgeous. Always, okay?”

“I believe that you believe it, anyway,” Kara concedes. “That’s something.”

“Well, I do,” Karen says. “And this, with the red? I’m going to informally request it not just be a one-time-use kinda thing. It’s really nice.”

“I was kinda hesitant,” Kara admits, “since red’s… but I figured, it was holiday-appropriate. You really like it?”

“I do,” Karen promises. “It looks good, and you look good, and hey, you can wear any damn color you want.” She laughs. “I mean, Matt goes to ultimate fighting wearing red and black and nobody thinks he’s… well. You know.”

Kara nods, because that does make her feel better, in a weird way. “You look good too. Really good. Come here?”

“Of course,” Karen says, finally leaning forward and getting in Kara’s space. She initiates the kiss, because based on those white silk sashes (like lace on a kid’s heart Valentine, she thinks, only not lace because that wouldn’t feel as nice) she can tell tonight she’s going to be doing most of that. She’s still figuring that out, the whole taking charge thing; she never had any boyfriends who were into that, so it’s different, and she’s still curious some days about why it appeals so much to Kara, but she wants to try.

Which is something that Kara deeply appreciates. She knows that especially in her circumstance it’s weird, but it’s just how it is, and Karen… she’s really sweet about it. About everything. “You smell pretty,” she whispers, once Karen breaks their kiss.

“Gosh,” Karen murmurs, giggling. “You’re awfully sweet.” She pauses, kisses Kara’s neck. “And you put on a hell of a party.”

“ _We_ put on a hell of a party,” Kara corrects. “It was both of us together.”

Karen nods. “But it was your idea,” she points out.

“Thanks,” Kara says. “I’m glad it worked out. It was really just… nice.”

“It was,” Karen agrees. “ _You’re_ really nice.” She pulls back so Kara can really see the twinkle in her eyes. “You feel like spreadin’ out for me?”

“I had kind of a weird idea, actually,” Kara murmurs. “I mean, we don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, but…”

“You gonna let me hear it before I decide?” Karen asks, trying for teasing.

“Well,” Kara says, “I was thinking, maybe… and I know this totally contradicts the point of dressing up, but… we could maybe blindfold each other?”

“Oh,” Karen says, taking a few moments to consider it. “I’ve never…”

“Forget it,” Kara mumbles. “It was a dumb idea.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Karen exclaims. “It, it sounds sort of fun. I’ve just never done that before. Would you promise to go easy on me?”

Kara bites back a smile. “Of course,” she says. “I just… I know it can be really nice? You feel a lot of things you wouldn’t otherwise, probably.”

“Okay,” Karen says. “How do you want to do this? Do you just want… I dunno. Should I do you first, then myself? Should we do each other?”

“Whatever you’re most comfortable with,” Kara shrugs, demure. She’s clearly still letting Karen have more of the control, despite the more level playing field.

“We’ll do each other,” Karen decides. “I mean, obviously. But you know.” She’s smirking.

“Yeah,” Kara says. Very tentatively, she picks up one of the sashes and holds it up, as if to suggest what Karen should do, so Karen mirrors the gesture. She brings the sash over Karen’s eyes, so Karen does the same. Their arms, inevitably, bump.

“You okay?” Karen asks.

“Yeah,” Kara repeats. “Let me just…” And very carefully she loops the fabric around Karen’s head, tying it in place and then setting her hands neatly in her lap. “You go?”

Karen does, her gestures just a little bit less fluid, and then she sits back on her heels. “Now what?”

Kara falters. Even if Karen can’t see that, she knows. (Is there a faltering noise? Matt would probably know. It occurs to her that this is kind of like pretending to be Matt while having sex, but not in a weird way. She’s positive that wasn’t Kara’s motivation.) “Well,” Kara says slowly, “now, I guess, we just… do… what we do?”

“Okay,” Karen says, trying not to laugh too much. She doesn’t mean it meanly, just - it’s sort of funny. In a sweet way. Experimentally, she leans forward, one hand out in front of her to make sure she doesn’t bump straight into Kara’s face, and once she’s pretty sure where she’s at she moves in to kiss Kara on the mouth.

Kara hums happily, grateful this plan didn’t go awry, and reaches out to brace her hand against Karen’s - arm? Shoulder, maybe? She’s not quite sure where she’s reaching, but she lands somewhere between. “You’re soft,” she murmurs.

“Thank you,” Karen says. She’s also not used to the kind of compliments Kara tends to pay - simple, sincere, and not entirely sexy - but she likes them. “Kiss my throat, maybe?”

Kara nods. That’s easy to do, all she has to do is follow the line of Karen’s jaw down and - “Here?” she asks, even though she knows the answer and she doesn’t wait for verbal confirmation to start worrying the skin there.

“Yeah,” Karen murmurs, sliding her own hand down to Kara’s thigh and starting to trace shapes. “God, that’s kinda a lot, huh?”

Kara smiles. “That’s kinda the point,” she says. “When your one sense is turned off, your other ones go into overdrive, or something.”

Again Karen thinks of Matt - mostly how he can hear and smell, like, everything - but that’s not sexy and she knows it and she doesn’t mean it in a sexy way, it just crosses her mind. What she actually says is, “Makes sense. Little more?”

“D’you mind if I leave marks?” Kara asks. “I’m not exactly trying, but - if it happens before I can stop myself.”

“Hey, that’s why God invented concealer,” Karen says blithely.

“You are so weird sometimes,” Kara murmurs, chuckling.

“You don’t mind,” Karen replies. “Back to my original question, little more?”

“Yeah,” Kara says, and she kisses Karen’s neck again, harder, a little less carefully, loving how it makes Karen groan.

“Can I get in your lap?” Karen asks breathlessly.

Kara nods without thinking, then giggles just as breathlessly. “Yeah,” she says. “Sorry. I nodded, but that… yeah.”

“Cute,” Karen murmurs, moving to straddle Kara’s lap and only fumbling a little bit. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Kara hums, rolling her hips against Karen’s. “You?”

“Yeah,” Karen echoes. She follows the sound of Kara’s breathing to get close enough to kiss her, maybe, hopefully, probably - perfect. “It makes sense, the point of… you’re tasting extra sweet.”

Kara blushes. “Thanks,” she says, finding Karen’s hips and holding on tight. “I mean, and you, too. You’re… yeah.”

“How did you wanna do this?” Karen asks softly. “I mean, I could get back down and…”

“I wanna stay close,” Kara whispers.

“So should I… fingers?” Karen asks. She’s still getting comfortable with the terminology here.

“The only article I could find online about doing this was for heteros,” Kara admits. “But I was thinking, maybe…” Hesitantly, she bucks her hips up a little, tries to grind on Karen.

“Yeah?” Karen murmurs. “Is that gonna work?”

Kara makes a face, glad that Karen won’t see her doing. “Maybe?” she says. “Try putting, um. Putting one leg between mine, and your knee…”

“Oh, okay,” Karen says. “And then I’m sittin’ on just one of your legs, and…”

“Yeah,” Kara says, grateful that that’s all she had to say. She tenses up the muscles in her leg, hoping that’ll give Karen a little more to go off of. “We can try, anyway?”

“Sounds nice,” Karen assures, starting to move her hips and her knee and hoping she’s not too uncoordinated to make this work. “This feel okay?”

“More than,” Kara promises. “Just keep going like that, maybe.” She leans forward, meaning to kiss Karen’s neck and landing instead on her shoulder, which makes her laugh sheepishly.

“Cute,” Karen says. That’s going to be an ongoing refrain (but then, it usually is). She focuses on that for a few minutes and pays close attention to any of Kara’s little reactions until one of them isn’t so little. It’s a moan, an outright moan, loud and unabashed and electrifying, and it makes Karen grin. “Wouldn’t mind hearing more of that,” she teases.

“Okay, yeah,” Kara murmurs. “Whatever you want, _chrysí mou_.”

Karen hums thoughtfully. That’s still pretty new, the nickname, but even though she had to ask what it meant it feels more natural than other things Kara had tried (all in light of the fact that Karen’s the one on top). It’s not really a power thing, just a praise thing, and that’s nice, even though she doesn’t always feel she deserves it. “I wanna hear you,” she says, trying for confidence. “Pretty noises from my pretty girl.”

“Yeah,” Kara repeats, pausing to moan again when Karen rubs on a particularly sensitive spot. “Thank you.”

Only doing a little bit of guesswork, Karen moves to kiss Kara’s cheek. “Of course, hon. You’re amazing.”

“You,” Kara murmurs.

They’re mostly quiet after that, save little exhalations of pleasure, as they concentrate on getting each other off. It’s not exactly precise in this position, but it’s not hard, either, with the little clues their bodies give, shudders and moans and warmth. Their underwear, still in place, grows damper, but neither of them think to move it out of the way, and their hands roam all over the other’s body, occasionally bumping one another.

Unsurprisingly Kara is the first one to come, wailing so loud that Karen leans in to kiss her and swallow some of the sound, falling limp against the bed, but after a minute of recovery she snaps back up and murmurs, “Let me help?” to Karen. This means Karen guides Kara’s hand over her clit and directs her silently toward giving extra friction, but it does the trick, and soon Karen is collapsing forward into Kara’s arms.

“Goddamn,” Karen whispers, “that was intense.”

“Yeah?” Kara asks, sounding hopeful. “You liked?”

“I liked very much,” Karen says. “But once I’m ready to move again, I’m gonna pull this off so I can watch you while I make you come again.”

“God,” Kara murmurs. “I seriously lucked out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _chrysí mou_ ; "my golden one" or possibly "darling" depending on the source


	31. touch me I'm a live wire, am I preaching to the choir, be a doer not a trier, as you please, give a little peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye and Jemma use the first night in their new apartment to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows [and if you say we'll be alright I'll follow you into the light](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/25497114).

“So,” Skye asks, “is all of this still...good?” She nods to the assortment of new things: the restraints and gag, which aren’t new concepts but just new versions, and the harness and dildo, which _are_ new for them.

Jemma glances at the pile a little apprehensively, but she nods and manages a shy smile. “It is,” she says. “I mean, I’m… it’s different, but I want to try it. I want to make you happy.”

“You always do, honey,” murmurs Skye, leaning forward to give her a kiss. “But thank you. If you ever wanna stop we can, okay?”

“Okay,” Jemma agrees. “It’ll be an adventure, though! I think.”

“Yeah.” Skye giggles. “You’re cute. By the way.”

“Thank you,” Jemma hums, grinning. “Do you want to… start? Setting up?”

Skye nods. “I mean, d’you want me to put this in the harness first, or do you wanna?” She waves the dildo (which is black with a rainbow band around the hilt) like a sword.

“What would be better?” Jemma asks, trying (unsuccessfully) not to giggle. “I don’t really… know.”

“I dunno. I haven’t really used a harness before.” Skye shrugs. “We’re gonna have to get it in there before you strap it on.” She pauses to giggle at her own phrasing.

Jemma ducks her head to hide how silly she finds all of this. “I’m following your lead,” she says.

“Okay, I’ll figure it out then.” Skye grins and wrestles with the harness and dildo for a minute before triumphantly presenting it. “Now I think you have to strap it on yourself? Or maybe I can help, I dunno.”

“Please help?” Jemma squeaks. “Should I…” She shimmies out of her underwear and stands with legs apart, hoping to facilitate although she doesn’t know what she’s facilitating exactly.

Skye comes over, giving her a quick kiss on the lips first. “I haven’t done this before either,” she teases Jemma. “Here, you hold it and then step into it? And then we can adjust it to fit you, I think.”

“Alright,” Jemma says. “I just… you know more about…” She shrugs and very tentatively steps into the harness, looking incredibly uncertain. “Like this?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Skye kisses her again. “Looks kinda hot. How’s it feel so far?”

“It’s fine,” Jemma says, shifting her weight experimentally. “Odd, but not bad odd? Just nothing I’m used to.”

“Makes sense.” Skye helps her adjust it, then says, “How about these next?” holding up the restraints.

“Yeah,” Jemma agrees. “Should I lay down?”

“That’d be good,” says Skye. “Please.”

Jemma nods and goes to the bed, spreading out on the clean sheets. “Love you,” she says, but then she glances down and sees the dildo just sticking out there and she can’t help but chuckle. “I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“No, no, it’s silly-looking,” agrees Skye, holding back her giggles. “And I mean, human dicks aren’t any less silly-looking.”

“Human dicks don’t often have rainbows on them, though,” Jemma replies.

“True. But you said you didn’t want one that looked too realistic,” asys Skye, laughing. “This is _totally_ unrealistic!”

“The realistic ones sort of unnerve me,” Jemma admits. “This is absurd, but it feels a little more honest, I suppose. Whatever someone else wants is whatever they want, but I… don’t, usually, want, for myself.” She shrugs sheepishly. “This is clearly for playing.”

Skye nods. “Yeah. Thanks for, y’know, indulging me.”

“Of course!” Jemma exclaims. “I, I want to make you happy. That means trying something a little different, so I want to try.”

“You always make me happy,” Skye says, running a hand through Jemma’s hair. Then she leans down to start fastening the new cuffs. These are different than their usual: there’s two spreader bars, one for the ankles and one for the wrists. She fastens the ankles first, so Jemma’s legs are stretched out in front of her, and then puts the second bar behind Jemma’s neck and sits her up against the head of the bed, bending her elbows and cuffing her wrists next to her shoulders. “How’s that?” she asks once she’s done.

“Good,” Jemma says. “Very… exposed. But it, I feel like I could stay like this awhile.” She blushes, like she always does when she discusses how bondage makes her feel.

“Good,” coos Skye, petting Jemma’s hair again. “Ready for this now?” She holds up the gag, which is black leather and has two rubber mouth guards that slip into the mouth. The website said it was good for quieting, which Skye figures will come in handy.

“Yeah,” Jemma says, rolling her head against Skye’s hand. “Love you.” Sweet as can be she lets her jaw drop.

Skye smiles. “Good girl.” She eases the gag in and then buckles it around Jemma’s neck. “Still good?”

Practically batting her eyelashes, Jemma nods in the affirmative. Her attempted response is just a hum that doesn’t even attempt to be articulate.

“Okay, lemme just get the lube.” Skye scoots over to retrieve it from the nightstand and then squirts some on her hand before starting to give the dildo what is basically a handjob.

Jemma would swear it’s just because this is a new experience for her if she could, but she can’t, so her obvious giggling sort of just happens. It’s surreal, is what it is, looking down and seeing Skye doing… _that_ … but to her, which is obviously new, but she can’t actually feel Skye’s hand going up and down the dildo because, well, dildo, but she can’t help but try and imagine, and -

It’s a lot going on at once, is the point. And it’s still silly.

Skye starts giggling too. “It’s ridiculous,” she agrees. “D’you like it though? I mean, I know you’re mostly doing this part for me but I want you to get something out of it too.”

Jemma pauses to think of how best to answer. As effectively gagged as she is, she’s pretty much limited to nonverbal hums, which may or may not be useful right now; shrugging is too ambivalent, nodding doesn’t seem specific enough. What she ends up doing is all three things at once, plus eye contact. At this exact moment most of what she’s getting out of it is happiness that she’s making Skye happy, but the dildo _is_ sitting near her clit, which is certainly pleasant, though so far it’s mostly an afterthought.

“Good,” says Skye, kissing Jemma’s cheek. Once she’s gotten a good amount of lube on the dildo, she uses the leftover that’s still on her hands on herself. “Now I think I just…” She trails off, maneuvering herself onto the dildo. She makes a noise in the back of her throat, letting herself slowly adjust. “Been awhile,” she says with a laugh.

This makes Jemma laugh too, playful and almost teasing. The implication is that unless there’s something Skye’s not telling her, their last experience with dildos was a collective one, so she understands. This isn’t at all something she can convey without words, though.

Skye giggles, rocking steadily until the dildo’s fully inside her before sort of bouncing experimentally on it. “Mmm, this is nice,” she huffs. “Very...filling.” Then she gives Jemma a shit-eating grin.

Are they just going to spend this entire time laughing? At this point, Jemma thinks it seems likely. She sort of ducks her head, trying to collect herself, but really all that does is mean she’s watching Skye’s hips instead of her face, and considering their hips are where the silly things are currently happening, this doesn’t do much but make her turn bright pink.

Skye notices Jemma blushing, and this doesn’t do much to make her stop giggling. “It’s okay, honey,” she says, “it’s pretty silly-looking.”

Jemma tries to mumble something reassuring - it’s silly, but she understands! It’s silly, but she’s glad if it’s achieving something - but this goes about as well as expected.

Skye pauses to stroke Jemma’s hair. “This is nice,” she promises. “You’re very good, honey.” Then she starts moving a little differently, trying to get the dildo to nudge at her G-spot. It takes some trial-and-error, but eventually she finds the right rhythm and lets out a moan.

Jemma blinks, somehow surprised by that sound although clearly delighted. She glances down to their hips and then back up with a question in her eyes - should she try to move any particular way?

“You’re doing fine,” Skye says, “and I don’t think you can thrust the way I have you rigged up anyway. But thank you.” She keeps moving herself, moaning when the dildo manages to rub the right spot. “Good girl,” she adds, “you’re so good.”

The praise makes Jemma practically purr, wiggling happily. The base of the dildo is starting to reach a particularly nice place for her, too, which certainly helps.

Skye hums and pets down Jemma’s side. She’s approaching orgasm pretty quickly, so she’s glad to see that Jemma’s enjoying this too. After another minute or two of rocking and whimpering, it hits her suddenly and she yelps and shudders against Jemma. “Thank you,” she murmurs, reaching to pet Jemma’s back. “That was really nice.”

Jemma nods, humming some combination of you’re welcome and thank you.

“You want me to reciprocate?” Skye asks. “I’ll have to undo some of that to get the harness off, but I can redo the spreader.”

Jemma nods again, feeling a little shy about how eager she is.

Pausing to press a kiss to the front of the gag, Skye starts to unhook the ankle cuffs. “You’re so pretty,” she murmurs.

Jemma sighs happily, humming a _thank you_ sort of sound (it’s a familiar enough cadence that she knows Skye will understand). She doesn’t move except how she’s moved, but she’s trying her very hardest to radiate joy.

Once Skye has the cuffs and spreader bar off, she does her best to work the harness off gently. “Lift your hips a little,” she instructs, “that’ll be easier.”

This is a little difficult without her hands to help leverage her, but Jemma tries.

“There we go.” Skye wriggles it off of her and then sets it aside. “Good girl. I’m really lucky, you know.” She reattaches the first ankle cuff.

Jemma echoes that same _thank you_ , clearly beaming.

Skye pets down Jemma’s legs, smiling, before she sets her up with the spreader bar again and fastens the other cuff. “Still good?”

Eagerly, Jemma nods. She’s already feeling halfway like she’s floated off, which is a good sign.

“Good,” says Skye. “D’you want fingers or mouth, or both?” She smirks. “I’m flexible.”

Jemma shrugs. This means both.

Skye reaches down to rub slowly at her center first, wrapping her other arm around Jemma’s back. “Seems like you’ve been enjoying this, honey,” she teases.

There’s no logical reason that that should make Jemma blush, but it does. From surprise, sort of, perhaps; though it’s not a surprise she enjoyed Skye enjoying herself.

“You’re cute,” hums Skye. “And you’re fun to play with.” She casually rubs circles around Jemma’s clit for a minute or two, just testing.

It’s clearly working, as Jemma can’t help but roll her hips (sort of) and moan a little.

Skye starts to kiss her way down Jemma’s body, stopping to pay her breasts special attention. “These are fun to play with too,” she murmurs, starting to suck on one.

Jemma mumbles her gratitude, arching against Skye’s mouth. She feels just this side of oversensitive, so any contact is incredible.

“Mmm,” hums Skye, sucking at Jemma’s breast for a minute or so before releasing it and moving to the other one. “You taste good, honey.”

Enjoying Jemma’s muffled noises, she continues kissing down her body before stretching out on her stomach and licking up Jemma’s center. She knows exactly what Jemma likes, and how to tease her.

Sure enough, that move makes Jemma’s hips and legs jerk up, not very far of course because the spreader bar is pinned under Skye’s legs, and _that_ in turn makes Jemma whimper a probably-needless apology.

Skye laughs. “You’re okay,” she murmurs, “you’re fine.” Then she starts sucking at Jemma’s clit.

It comes out pure nonsense, but Jemma absolutely moans at that, eyelashes fluttering. She’s sort of surprised she doesn’t come right on contact, but she wants to hold off as long as she can, make this very very nice. (This is going to be difficult.)

Skye licks and sucks for awhile, listening to Jemma and murmuring praises about how pretty she is and how good she tastes. She slips a finger inside Jemma to see how she’ll react to the addition.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that she reacts _very_ positively, squealing and staring down at Skye needily. Her legs have started to shake, just a little.

Grinning up at her, Skye adds another finger and keeps mouthing at Jemma. She can tell Jemma’s close, and after just a little more of that (during which Jemma starts making these high-pitched panting noises) she feels Jemma peak and gently guides her through it, not stopping until Jemma gets floppy.

This is one of those orgasms that makes Jemma pretty well incoherent and useless to the world; she just keeps whimpering, her shoulders sag, her head drops toward her chest. It’s a big compliment.

Skye strokes her thighs, sitting up slowly and leaning forward to kiss the gag. “Good girl,” she says. “Enjoy that?” She’s smirking; she knows the answer is yes.

Jemma nods, though it seems to take a great deal of effort. Her eyes are sparkling, which is a much more resounding confirmation.

“Good.” Skye strokes her hair. “Want me to undo some of this?”

As best she can, Jemma shrugs; as is usually the case, she’s enjoying not making decisions, but she wouldn’t mind a cuddle. She knows Skye knows this.

“Mmm, okay. Let me just…” Skye undoes the ankle cuffs first, then starts on the wrists. She gently rubs them after she pulls off the cuffs. “Feeling nice?”

Jemma nods again, lazily but affectionately pawing at Skye.

Skye giggles. “This now?” she asks, tracing the lines of the gag.

Jemma feels her cheeks going pink as she whimpers in the affirmative. She’s not entirely sure she’s got her words back yet, but she’ll try.

“You don’t have to talk yet if you don’t wanna,” Skye says, undoing the gag and working it out of Jemma’s mouth. She wraps it up in a tissue before pressing a kiss to Jemma’s mouth. “Love you.”

That makes Jemma sigh happily, relieved almost, but she can’t not respond somehow, so she lets her hand flop on Skye’s thigh and forms the ASL sign for “I love you,” smiling lazily.

Skye pets Jemma’s hair. “Thanks for my birthday present, honey. It was great.”

Jemma butts her head against Skye’s hand, managing a murmured “Welcome.” The words seem to take a lot of effort to get out, but she needs to try. After a moment of pause she glances down at the mattress, as if to suggest they lie down.

“Bedtime?” Skye asks, guiding Jemma into a laying-down position.

“Yeah,” Jemma agrees, moving to kiss whatever part of Skye she reaches first (a shoulder).

Skye sighs happily and nestles closer. “I’m glad we get to do this every night if we wanna. Be together, I mean.”

Jemma giggles, draping an arm around Skye’s waist. “S’nice,” she agrees softly.

Skye wraps her arm around Jemma’s waist likewise and lets her eyes drift closed. “Sleep well, Jem,” she murmurs. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toys mentioned in this fic: [gag](https://www.sub-shop.com/collections/unique-gags/products/978a-pretty-quiet-hot-pink-leather-double-mouth-guard-gag), [cuffs](https://www.sub-shop.com/collections/sets-full-bondage-gear-sets/products/6789a-blk-sex-cuffs-thigh-to-ankle-wrist-set-black-leather), [harness](https://www.myspare.com/product/joque), [dildo](http://shevibe.com/pride-rainbow-g-spot-silicone-dildo-by-bs-small.aspx).


	32. you can make it click, making me pop, going for the goal with the clean cut, searching no more, all melodies are coming ashore, flushing over me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aida comes up with a way to involve themselves in Lorelei and Raina's playtime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Occurs sometime between [I don't need permission to rise up when it hurts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/27662715) and [let's pretend we're all healed up and happy and moved on](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2035785/chapters/27823155). It doesn't particularly matter where in that month.
> 
> Also: yes hello I am a cis woman so if there's anything I need to fix regarding Aida please let me know!

“Can I ask, do you feel more like both or neither?” Lorelei asks in a drawl. Yes, it’s a highly personal question, but they’ve all been drinking and it’s not as if the three of them haven’t all been growing closer and getting to know these little secrets about each other.

“Yes,” Aida says sweetly. They laugh instead of getting bothered. It’s not the stupidest question they’ve ever heard, and they understand where it comes from. “I’m myself. Sometimes I feel more feminine or more masculine, sometimes I feel like everything and sometimes nothing. Sometimes I just don’t care.”

Raina nods. “That makes sense,” she says, sipping her wine. “Has that always been… how it is for you? Stop us if we’re being inappropriate.”

“It has, although I didn’t always have the words,” Aida says. “And believe me, I will. It does help that I know you’re just interested in knowing me, not in observing me like some rare zoo animal.”

“Basic, basic bitches,” Raina mutters vehemently, clearly casting aspersions on the types that do, in her opinion, observe like that. “That’s one of the worst feelings in the world, knowing that just because you’re not easily boxed you’re being judged.” She grimaces. Her own box is one of racial stereotypes, not gendered ones, but it’s similarly aggravating.

Lorelei lays a hand over Raina’s much more indulgently than she’d let herself be seen doing in public. “Poor thing,” she croons. “Both of you. It’s tiresome being exoticized when you fit someone’s conventional standards, I can only imagine… well.”

“I’m used to it,” Raina and Aida say in unison, after which they look at each other and smirk.

“And besides,” Aida adds after a moment, “it’s still better than having to pretend and lie.”

“That’s reasonable,” Lorelei says.

“You lie all the time,” Raina laughs.

“Voluntarily and to achieve something I want,” Lorelei counters, “and it’s not like you don’t as well.” Raina shrugs in cheerful concession.

“You mean when you’re dealing with men, yes?” Aida asks curiously, tilting their head. “Do you really enjoy sleeping with those? I’ve found so many of them, the cis ones, to be…” They wrinkle their nose.

“Disappointing?” Lorelei supplies, smirking. “Yes, but it’s the easiest way to manipulate them, and I do enjoy doing that.”

“I propose a wager,” Aida says suddenly.

“Oh?” Lorelei croons. She sort of has a feeling where this might be going.

“If I can get you off with one of my dicks better than the last man you slept with got you off with theirs, I get whatever I want,” Aida suggests, clearly smug.

“Whatever?” Lorelei echoes, amused.

“Or whoever,” Aida replies, eyeing Raina.

Well - it makes sense. It’s known who belongs to whom here, and how they do, and Raina clearly doesn’t mind this hypothetical arrangement. But it very certainly does need to be an arrangement. Aida’s not entirely comfortable relinquishing control themselves, and given what she can tell about Lorelei’s role in the relationship they need to have some guarantee.

“Amendment,” Lorelei says. “You get both of us off and it’s yours. Within reason.”

“I’ll bend and get bound,” Raina clarifies, smiling widely, “she doesn’t do that. But she’ll listen to you and even do what you say, if that’s the deal.”

“Intriguing,” Aida remarks. “I’m game.”

“Good,” Lorelei says, not even having to wait for Raina’s spoken approval to add, “We’re game.”

 

* * *

 

“So how do we begin this?” Aida asks the next night. They’ve not yet turned around to face the other two; they’re naked save a pair of black satin panties, currently rummaging in the goodie bag they brought with them.

“Mm, first let me see you,” Lorelei (all golden lingerie and wicked smile) instructs. She’s sprawled against the headboard, clearly in the mood to play royalty. “All of you.”

It’s a clear instruction, and Aida slips on their harness, then turns to pose. The first time someone sees the whole (pun intended) package, they know, it always seems a little incongruous, but that’s the whole point (pun intended) of the evening.

Raina, who’s kneeling at the foot of the bed in a bra and panties all covered with embroidered roses, lights up. The kneeling also seems a little incongruous to Aida, but it’s not like they weren’t prepared for that dynamic here. “You’re beautiful,” she announces. “Handsome, too.”

“Thank you, little rosebud,” Aida replies. They’re not entirely planning on the nickname, but it feels right, and given the way Raina blushes and Lorelei nods in approval it’s agreed upon.

“She’s very sweet when she wants to be,” Lorelei says. “A bit overeager, though.”

“Well, I wanted to say,” Raina defends. “It’s good hospitality.”

“I understand,” Lorelei says, almost parodyingly patient. “Aida, darling, how thick are you tonight?”

Aida shrugs, idly stroking their dildo (black as well, sleek, clearly high-end). “Oh, just about one and a half inches,” they say. “I didn’t want to be overwhelming.”

“Perfect,” Lorelei declares, and she glances pointedly at Raina. “You know what to do, my sweet.”

“Aw,” Raina pouts, but she’s clearly not really that put out, nor is she surprised. She and Lorelei privately went over some of the options for this little rendez-vous, and this was discussed, so.

“Clarify?” Aida asks. They’re still learning how to read the silent interplay between the two women, though they’d humbly suggest they’re already better than most.

Raina just clambers up and goes to the toybox on Lorelei’s bureau. She searches, and after a moment she turns back to face the others, a wide black ring held in her mouth with a thin leather strap. She’s still herself, though, so she rolls her eyes playfully. She’ll accept her so-called punishment, but she’s always going to be a bit of a brat.

“I see,” Aida murmurs. “Pretty rosebud.” They step forward to stroke Raina’s cheek, which makes Raina practically purr.

“I’m sure I don’t need to explain to you what that’s for,” Lorelei says to Aida.

“No, I’m sure you don’t,” Aida remarks. Without being told, Raina sinks to her knees and stares up at Aida all wide-eyed and encouraging, so Aida smirks and rolls on a condom. “Eager,” they tease.

Raina shrugs coyly. In truth, she hasn’t played quite like this in awhile, and the novelty counts for a lot. Besides that, there’s something sort of fun about playing around the edges of potentially demeaning behavior with people who she knows would never demean her for real.

Once everyone is all prepared, Aida approaches and then very gently slides their dick through the ring in Raina’s mouth. “Is that good, rosebud?” they murmur. “Do you like having me in your mouth?” Their tone is surprisingly gentle despite their words, as if to soften the impact.

Humming, Raina nods, the sound a bit muffled by the silicone heavy on her tongue; from the bed, Lorelei calls, “Put on a show, dears. Don’t rush.”

“Slowly, _slowly_ ,” Aida croons, almost to themselves (the others get the joke, but it doesn’t need saying). Still carefully, they increase the speed of their thrusting, tangling their hand in Raina’s hair. They don’t tug or grab (Raina doesn’t mind the former, but as much as she likes Aida she really doesn’t know them well enough to want the latter yet) but they do hold, just slightly possessive. The possessiveness suits, Raina thinks, since someone’s (strap-on) dick hitting the back of your throat is also pretty possessive.

“How do they taste, sweet?” Lorelei asks.

To this, Raina moans appreciatively. The condom is flavored, chocolate, but really the question is one of those that she knows she’s supposed to answer in the affirmative, for the aesthetic maybe. You’d say that to someone with a flesh and blood dick, and they’ve all entered into an unspoken agreement to treat Aida’s strap-on as if it was real.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Lorelei chuckles. “You look gorgeous like that, the both of you.”

“Thank you,” Aida says, clearly smug. “I imagine this is a rare enough sight for you.”

“What, my girl on her knees?” Lorelei asks, smirking. “That’s normal. We don’t often play with phallic things, though.” Neither of them are quite the strap-on type most of the time.

“I think I’m flattered,” Aida chuckles. They turn their attention back to Raina for a moment, ruffling her curls. “You’re doing well, rosebud. Feels very nice.” And given that attentions to the dildo do create friction between Aida’s legs, that’s not just playing along.

Raina gives a happy little hum. Her hands, though left free, are held behind her back - she’s got good manners, or she’s been well-trained in these situations at any rate. Aida is impressed.

“Don’t get too excited, though,” Lorelei says. “You’re just warming up, don’t forget.”

“Oh, I know,” Aida replies, rolling their head. “Raina, sweet, I’m going to pull out. As lovely a job as you’re doing, I think it’s near about time to move onto the next part of the evening.”

Batting her eyelashes, Raina affects an expression that’s almost - _almost_ \- hurt, like she doesn’t want to stop. (In truth that’s another illusion, because it’s not that she wants to stop exactly but she knows that the next part of the evening is going to be pleasurable in ways that are much less of a game and much more of an actuality.)

“I agree with them,” Lorelei declares, and that’s that. “Up here, please.”

Smiling with more of that almost unexpected care, Aida offers Raina a hand and helps lift her to her feet so they can both go to join Lorelei on the mattress. “Does she get a reward for her hard work or does she have to wait a bit more?” Aida asks, obviously satisfied with either option.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lorelei remarks, “what do you think?”

“She _did_ do such a nice job,” Aida says. “You did, rosebud.” The latter is added somewhat belatedly, in case Raina would prefer not to be spoken about in the third person. (Not that she hasn’t been spoken about so all through the night, but this is an appropriate time to amend.)

“Mm, I think you should show your appreciation,” Lorelei declares. “Raina, sweet, do get comfortable.”

Nodding fervently, Raina lays back on her back, practically flat, and - conscious of where the others are currently sitting - lifts and her legs and spread-eagles. She’s being theatrical on purpose, which is obvious, and Lorelei doesn’t move her except to pet her hair.

“Showoff,” Aida says fondly, angling their hips and without further ado thrusting into Raina. Between the sucking-off and Raina herself being already wet, there’s really no concern about lubrication, which is certainly simpler, and they don’t mind saying so. “You’re nice and ready for me, hm?”

Raina nods, whimpering eagerly.

“I imagine having me in your mouth got you excited, didn’t it?” Aida prompts.

Raina whimpers again.

“You feel so good,” Aida murmurs, stroking the insides of Raina’s thighs as they move their hips. “You feel so good and you look so pretty.”

This time when Raina whimpers, Lorelei translates, “She’s saying thank you.”

It goes like this for a little while, Aida offering idle praise and caressing Raina while Raina hums and stretches and arches against Aida, while Lorelei watches with interest and idly strokes either of them wherever she can reach. She knows all of Raina’s little special spots, of course; she’s learning Aida’s, though they’re less obviously responsive so it’s a different process.

Then finally, suddenly, Aida hits Raina’s g-spot and Raina lets out a long, shuddery whine. What impresses Aida is that Raina keeps her legs held up, open, and straight even as her torso seems to collapse against the bed, and they say as much. “Very good form, rosebud,” they coo, petting Raina’s skin. “Can we agree that I’ve won your part of the bet?”

Lorelei reaches to undo Raina’s gag, smiling indulgently. “What do you say, my sweet?” she asks.

“You won and _then_ some,” Raina declares, gracefully sitting up to kiss Aida on the lips. “Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Aida smirks. “Shall I get straight to it, then?”

“Oh, darling, there’s nothing straight here,” Lorelei says with a theatrical laugh. She reaches down to caress herself, thoughtfully almost, then declares, “I’m already pretty warmed up, but I would appreciate a _little_ foreplay. It’d certainly give you an advantage over you-know-who.”

Aida moves forward, smirking. “Can I remove this?" they ask, running fingers along the strap of Lorelei’s bra.

Instead of answering, Lorelei arches her back and unhooks her bra herself, then hands it to Raina with a smirk. “Here, sweet,” she murmurs. “Get this out of the way for me?”

“Of course, goddess,” Raina hums. She folds the bra carefully and then sets it on the endtable, idly adding, “I’d get up, but I don’t want to move yet. I’m so pleasantly… _sore_.”

“Glad to have helped,” Aida replies smugly. “Now, Lorelei - how would you prefer me to address you, exactly? Since you’re still nominally in charge.” They smirk a bit.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lorelei hums. “Whatever you think suits.” This is clearly a challenge.

Aida nods thoughtfully, moving in to caress Lorelei’s breasts, one and then the other, gentle and almost reverent. “Beautiful mam’selle,” they murmur. “You honor me by inviting me to your bed.”

“You invited yourself,” Raina pipes up. By now she’s sprawled on her side lazily, next to Lorelei; she tangles her hand in Lorelei’s hair with a smug expression. “Technically.”

“Well,” Lorelei says, “I did agree to their self-invitation. And I’m thoroughly glad I did.” She glances down at her chest, as if to suggest that more attention needs to be paid there.

“How kind,” Aida laughs. “How do you feel about fingernails?”

“Do it,” Raina exclaims, grinning.

Aida chuckles and drags their nails down Lorelei’s breasts, slow and teasing. “Like that?”

“Like that,” Lorelei agrees throatily. “Everywhere.”

“Ooh,” Raina comments, “what an honor. Not just anyone gets to use fingernails.”

“You do,” Lorelei points out, turning her head to smirk at Raina fondly.

“Well, I’m not just anyone, am I?” Raina replies cheekily.

“Arrogant,” Lorelei teases. “Do I need to gag you again?”

Raina shrugs lazily. “I’ll be nice.”

“You two are amusing,” Aida remarks. “In and out of your roles as you are.”

“That’s why this works,” Lorelei declares. “And you, Aida. I think I’m ready.”

“So straightforward,” Aida says wryly. “Are you comfortable like this?”

Lorelei shrugs and adjusts herself, fluffing a pillow and putting it behind her head. “Show me you can handle being on top,” she encourages.

“Get me another condom, rosebud,” Aida suggests, nudging Raina off the bed.

“Oh, do I have to?” Raina whines, but she slinks across the room to get the box of condoms and the bottle of lube anyway. She hands them over and strikes a pose next to Lorelei.

“Attitude, attitude,” Aida chides, and casually, without even looking, Lorelei stretches and places a hand over Raina’s mouth. Instead of whining about this, though, Raina just presses a kiss to Lorelei’s palm and sighs contentedly.

“Don’t be so quick to judge,” Lorelei replies. “Come on, get to it.”

Aida changes their condom quickly and straddles Lorelei’s hips before positioning their dildo at Lorelei’s entrance. “How romantic,” they say.

Lorelei laughs at that, and, although Raina’s still quieted by Lorelei’s hand, she laughs too. “Romance isn’t exactly the name of the game here, darling,” Lorelei declares, letting her other hand guide Aida into her and encourage them to start moving. “I don’t really _do_ romance.”

“You’re probably better off,” Aida says. “More trouble than it’s worth, really. And you can get all the best parts without all the messy emotions.” They smirk. “Though I’m sure you know that already. You two seem to have a comfortable arrangement.”

“Considering she’s the only person I’ve slept with regularly but without ulterior motives in years, I’d say that’s a fair statement,” Lorelei remarks, shifting the hand over Raina’s mouth to tug Raina close for a proper kiss. “But it’s not exactly romance.”

“Part of what she means is that it’s not a closed situation,” Raina interjects, eyes gleaming. “If I might be so bold as to say.”

“You might,” Lorelei agrees smugly. “But there’s certainly no pressure.”

“Oh, I rather figure there was an offer like that waiting to be said,” Aida chuckles. “I take it that means I’m doing a satisfactory job for you?”

“You are,” Lorelei says, “and you made our sweet here happy, but for now - less talking, more fucking, yes?”

Aida and Raina both laugh, and for the same reason: blunt vulgarities like that don’t seem natural from any of them, really, but especially not Lorelei. “Of course, mam’selle,” Aida replies smoothly, shifting their hips to change the angle at which they’re going into Lorelei.

After enough of this careful attention, Lorelei wails and orgasms, shuddering against her mattress (and Raina and Aida’s gently placed hands) with pleasure. “Yes,” she breathes out.

“Satisfactory?” Aida asks, though they clearly know the answer.

“Oh, darling,” Lorelei croons, “you’ve won the bet and _then_ some.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And don't worry, Aida's going to get plenty of orgasms too. They're going to cash in on their bet in the near future.


	33. I don't think this is as far as we can get control, a chance to prove your power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye, Jemma, and Bobbi are feeling a little frisky after the New Years' gala.

“Pity we can’t lock the door,” Bobbi says as soon as they’re back in their room.

Skye shrugs. “Guess we’ll just have to make sure nobody comes to investigate,” she says, with a sly look at Jemma.

“I think we’ll manage,” Jemma mumbles, already blushing again. “Should we start…?” She motions absently to her zipper.

“Oh, where would the fun be in that?” Bobbi chuckles. “You both look so gorgeous like this, I’m not done enjoying it.” She steps out of her shoes, then adds, “I’d appreciate if you’d both get your stockings off, though. I think we might be needing those for other purposes.”

“Of course,” Jemma squeaks, reaching under her dress to unclip her stockings (she’s a bit disappointed that the elegant lingerie she opted for isn’t going to be on display, but she figures there’s always other chances for that later). “Where, where do you want me?”

Skye’s also tugging off her own stockings. “And me?” she asks, tilting her head. “I mean, I’m assuming we’re doing this as a hierarchy.”

Bobbi nods. “Honey, sit your cute little ass right there,” she instructs Jemma, nodding to the low-backed stool accompanying the room’s honest-to-god dressing table. Once Jemma has done so, legs spread as much as her dress allows (it’s fairly loose-fitting from the waist down, which is convenient), Bobbi turns to Skye and declares, “I think it’s your turn to touch her.”

Jemma stares in surprise. “And you?”

“I’m just backup for now,” Bobbi says. “I haven’t gotten a good show in a while.”

“Oh, alright.” Skye comes over to Jemma, putting one hand on her waist and leaning in close. She presses a quick kiss to her lips, then glances over at Bobbi with an almost defiant expression. “That okay?”

“It’s okay,” Bobbi agrees, going to sit on the bed and lean back casually. “I’m hoping for a little more, though.”

Jemma nods eagerly, whispering, “Me, too, please.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Skye purrs, “we’re just getting started.” She reaches under Jemma’s dress and runs her fingers over Jemma’s thighs for a minute or so, switching to fingernails partway through. “I know _exactly_ what to do.”

“Oh, oh,” Jemma squeaks, nodding. She hasn’t been told not to, so she very tentatively reaches to put her hands on Skye’s waist, just for the contact and warmth and sensation. “God, I’m, I’m…”

“Kind of a mess,” Bobbi supplies, smirking. “You’ve been squirming since the party. It’s cute.”

“It’s exactly what you intended,” Jemma says, rolling her eyes though without any real bite.

Bobbi shrugs - _so what if it was_? “I like you a little desperate sometimes,” she says. “Desperate and, correct me if I’m wrong, unbelievably wet, huh?”

“Yup,” Skye says, smirking as she casually runs a finger over Jemma’s center. “Good thing you took her underwear or they’d be pretty well ruined by this point.”

“They would,” Jemma agrees softly, trying to keep her hips from jerking up _too_ abruptly.

“Precious,” Bobbi coos. “I’m kind of surprised you don’t do that more often, sugar. The results speak for themselves.”

Skye chuckles as she starts to rub at Jemma. “I mean, we don’t have a lot of chances at home. Not like I can do that before work. I can maybe figure something out, though.”

“Oh,” Jemma exclaims, nodding somewhat in spite of herself and tightening her hold on Skye’s waist. “I’d know I’m yours all day. Which I do all the time! But not in that way, and that would be exciting, and -” She shakes her head, cutting herself off. “I’m babbling.”

“You’re excited,” Bobbi says. “It’s cute, even if you’re a little too articulate right now.” She crosses her own legs dramatically, more for the aesthetic than anything else. “Wanna work on that, Skye?”

“Yeah, sure,” Skye says, adjusting a bit so she can dip two fingers into Jemma. “Good, honey?”

“Good,” Jemma agrees. “Please, just a little more?”

“A little more what, honey?” Bobbi calls, amused.

“More,” Jemma repeats, shrugging. She’s not sure what she wants, just that she wants it.

Skye chuckles. “I can do more, honey,” she says, circling Jemma’s clit with one finger while moving her other fingers inside Jemma gently.

“Oh, oh _shit_ ,” Jemma whimpers.

“She’s pretty far gone already, Bobbi,” Skye says. “Won’t take too much longer, will it, honey?”

“No,” Jemma pants. “I mean, I mean - I’m just so…”

“Hold off for now, sugar,” Bobbi declares. “Honey’s not the only one who’s been getting worked up.” Jemma squeaks, clearly aghast. “And we both know she likes it when we make her wait a little, even if she pretends she doesn’t.”

“Of course,” Skye says, pulling her hands away from Jemma and going over to Bobbi. “What now?” She looks up and down Bobbi’s body pointedly.

“First I think we’d better make sure someone doesn’t get any smart ideas about finishing herself off,” Bobbi says, eyeing Jemma (sure enough, her hands are resting in her lap, fussing with the hem of her dress). She hands Skye one of the pairs of stockings, then stands up herself. “You’re a good girl, honey, but I don’t think you’re good enough to resist that right now.”

Jemma glances down, clearly sheepish. “I could try,” she says, but she doesn’t really sound like she believes it.

“You could, but it might be easier if you didn’t have to,” Bobbi says. “Skye, sugar, get her ankles? Apart, I don’t want to worry about having to rearrange her later.”

Skye nods and starts to fasten one of Jemma’s ankles to the leg of the stool. “Don’t worry,” she says to Jemma, pressing a kiss to her leg, “we’ll come back to you soon.”

“Okay,” Jemma hums (she pretty much expected this, after all).

“Hey,” Bobbi says soothingly, kissing Jemma’s neck, “you’re still gonna be our pinup. You’re so good at that, honey.” This as she gently pulls Jemma’s arms back and arranges them in reverse prayer, knotting one stocking around her wrists and the other more loosely around her elbows. “It’s not the tightest tie, but you’re not gonna try to squirm out, are you?”

“No,” Jemma says, already on her way to blissed out. “I’ll stay right here, promise.”

“Good girl,” murmurs Skye, standing up. “Now what, Bobbi?” she asks, looking over at her expectantly.

“Now you had better come over and rub me out,” Bobbi says. She hasn’t taken her dress off, either, but since she’s sitting back on the bed it’s hiked up around her waist in a _very_ unladylike way.

Skye licks her lips and says “Yes _ma’am_ ” before getting onto the bed with Bobbi and reaching between her legs. “Want me to take my time or no?”

“Get started and I’ll decide,” Bobbi encourages. “I think we’re the ones putting on a show now, huh?”

“Guess so,” says Skye. She starts to stroke Bobbi’s clit and slips two fingers inside her. “More fingers, or is that good?”

“That’s good for now,” Bobbi says. “Speed up, though.”

“Alright, alright.” Skye moves her fingers a bit faster as requested. “Bossy.”

“Kinda my thing,” Bobbi shrugs. “Not like you’re usually complaining.”

Skye laughs. “True.” She leans in to kiss Bobbi’s neck.

“Keep that up,” Bobbi coaxes, tangling a hand in Skye’s hair. “You can bite a little if you want.”

Skye hums an answer and gently worries a spot on Bobbi’s neck as she rubs a little harder with her fingers.

“Mm,” Bobbi murmurs, “you’re feeling a little feisty, huh?”

“Kinda my thing,” snarks Skye in return.

Bobbi laughs, more loudly than sexily. “Fair point,” she says. “She’s kinda mouthy, isn’t she, honey?”

“Yes,” Jemma answers honestly, “but I think we both adore it.” She beams at Skye, just a little bit sucking-up.

“Cute,” Skye says, grinning over at Jemma. “Don’t worry, honey, I haven’t forgotten about you. Just as soon as I-” She interrupts herself to bite Bobbi’s neck a bit harder, still moving her fingers.

“Soon as you what?” Bobbi asks archly. “The end to that sentence better be ‘get permission.’”

Skye laughs. “Sure.” She curls the fingers that are inside Bobbi a bit. “Or as soon as I distract you enough.”

“And just how do you plan on doing that?” Bobbi asks.

“As soon as I…” Skye’s brow furrows in concentration for a minute and then she grins and starts to move her fingers against Bobbi’s g-spot. “Do that?” She sounds less certain than she means to.

“Closer,” Bobbi smirks. “Not distracted yet, though.”

“Alright.” Skye keeps that up and uses her other hand to pinch Bobbi’s clit.

“Closer,” Bobbi repeats, practically purring. “Just think, sugar, the sooner I come means the sooner honey comes.”

“Yeah, I know,” Skye says. “Swear to god, one of these days I’m gonna make you lose your shit again.”

“You get closer than most people, anyway,” Bobbi concedes. “Just a little more and I’ll be there.”

Skye nods and continues, scraping and nipping at Bobbi’s neck as she does.

“Just like _that_ ,” Bobbi hisses, and she graces Skye with a soft moan as she comes, because she knows how hard Skye worked. Well, that and she feels genuinely good.

Satisfied, Skye nuzzles at Bobbi before leaning back. “This dress is working just as well as the suit, by the way.”

“Good,” Bobbi murmurs, though there’s no surprise really. “I figured this was a better reason to get femme.”

“I’m into it,” Skye promises. “And honey is too, aren’t you?” She turns to give Jemma a prompting look.

“Oh, yes,” Jemma says eagerly. “You’re beautiful. Both of you are beautiful.”

“Thanks, honey,” Bobbi coos. “Ready for some more?”

Jemma nods eagerly.

“Are you going first, or am I?” Skye asks Bobbi.

“You already had a turn, didn’t you?” Bobbi asks. “I think that means I’m up.”

“Yes please,” Jemma squeaks. “I mean, to either of you, I’m just…” Well, she’s been rather fruitlessly bouncing her hips against the seat this whole time. She’s ready to go.

“You can play with her neck more, though,” Bobbi suggests, sprawling out on her stomach and reaching forward, beckoning almost. “Push her over here, will you?”

“Sure thing.” Skye gets up and gently pushes the stool toward the bed, murmuring in Jemma’s ear, “Hey, honey, you having fun?”

“I am,” Jemma agrees. “I feel like I might lose it, being honest.”

Bobbi leans forward and strokes up Jemma’s center, grinning. “That helping?”

“God, Bobbi, that’s perfect,” Jemma murmurs, moaning.

Skye leans against Jemma’s back, like she’d been earlier in the evening, and starts kissing her neck. “You make pretty noises,” she says, because she knows it’ll make Jemma react.

“Thank you,” Jemma says, tipping her head back to chase a little more attention. “You’re so sweet to me, Skye. And you, Bobbi.”

“Even when I’m not being sweet?” Bobbi asks smugly, rubbing circles over Jemma’s clit.

“Always,” Jemma promises. A few seconds more of that and her breath catches.

“Careful, now,” Bobbi says, rubbing a little harder because she knows it’ll make Jemma get a little louder. And it does.

“I’m trying,” Jemma whispers, blushing.

“Skye, sugar? My purse,” Bobbi instructs.

Skye makes a little disappointed noise but manages to tear herself away from Jemma long enough to retrieve Bobbi’s purse. She holds it out, tilting her head in question.

“Panties, please,” Bobbi says. “Yours, if you would.”

Raising an eyebrow, Skye does. “You’re not pulling any stops, huh.” It’s not really a question.

“What did you really think I was planning, if not this?” Bobbi asks, rolling her eyes. “You wanna open up, honey?”

Jemma nods, but she doesn’t do so immediately, or at least not more than is required for her to say, “Really?”

“Really,” Bobbi says. “It’s not like you’re going to be tasting anything you don’t already. Not that you’re not cute when you get a little scandalized.”

“This is okay, right, honey?” Skye asks. She’s pretty sure it is, but it’s good to double-check.

“Yeah,” Jemma murmurs. “Just…” It’s a little more than usual somehow. But not in a bad way, so she lets her jaw drop, watching Bobbi intensely.

“Good girl,” Bobbi hums, sitting up with a flourish, balling up Skye’s panties, and carefully putting them in Jemma’s mouth. “You can breathe, honey?”

Jemma nods, and she can’t help it, she moans a little at the taste of Skye.

“Pretty,” Bobbi says, mostly because she knows it’ll make Jemma wiggle.

Skye strokes Jemma’s hair. “We love your noises,” she says. “But we really love when they’re just for us.”

Jemma nods again, more adamantly this time. _Just for them_ , she means.

Satisfied, Bobbi moves back in to rub at Jemma, smirking. “And we love when you’re being good for us but a little naughty in general,” she adds. “It’s so cute.”

“The cutest,” Skye agrees. She sucks at the back of Jemma’s neck, hard enough to leave a little hickey, but one that can be hidden easily.

“So cute and _so_ eager,” Bobbi murmurs, stroking a bit harder. “This is what you wanted the whole time, isn’t it? What you were thinking about while we stood around talking to all those fancy strangers. You were being so polite, but the only thing on your mind was letting your girls do you up and fuck you senseless.”   

That’s more dirty talk than they often get into, too, but Bobbi’s watching Jemma’s face very carefully to make sure it’s being well-received, and sure enough, though Jemma keeps blushing she nods along shyly, like she’s pretending to be more embarrassed than she really is.

Skye nods. “And you had to keep being polite and friendly and not give anything away, didn’t you? It was driving you crazy, right, honey? I bet you wished one of us would just pull you into a corner and finish you off.”

Jemma lets out a whine, clearly agreeing with this, and glances between the other two, pleading.

“You think she’s almost there, sugar?” Bobbi asks.

“Oh yeah,” says Skye. “You gonna let her come or…?”

Just like that, Bobbi pulls back, grinning in open defiance of Jemma’s needy moans. “I think you get to go first,” she says, patting the mattress beside her. “You’ve been so selfless tonight, that deserves a reward.”

Skye grins and flops onto the bed. “If you say so, boss,” she says cheerfully.

“I do,” Bobbi declares. “Don’t you agree, honey? Your girl’s been so good.”

Jemma still looks aghast, but she manages to nod. She doesn’t care for waiting, but she _does_ think Skye’s been good. (Skye’s always good, except when she’s being bad on purpose.)

“Aw, look how sweet,” Bobbi croons. “C’mere, sugar, climb on.” She nods to one of her exposed thighs meaningfully.

“Okay,” Skye says, coming over to perch on Bobbi’s thigh. “Jesus, your legs are ridiculous.”

“I know you mean that in the good way,” Bobbi says, pulling Skye down tight against her and encouraging her to start rolling her hips.

“I really do,” groans Skye as she follows Bobbi’s lead and starts grinding against her. “ _Fuck,_ that’s good.”

“Good,” Bobbi echoes, starting to rub Skye’s clit. “I’m surprised you didn’t get all demanding before now, honestly.”

Skye laughs, though it’s a bit breathless. “I mean, I was having fun with you, and then with honey, so, y’know. I’m working on patience and shit.”

“Still,” Bobbi says. “It’s impressive. Isn’t it, honey?” She turns to Jemma, grinning (mostly at how worked-up Jemma looks), and waits for a nod.

“Don’t tease her,” Skye says. “You have me to play with. Go faster.”

Bobbi laughs. “Look who suddenly thinks she’s in charge,” she jokes, but she does as requested.

Skye’s about to respond but she interrupts herself with a loud moan. “Yeah,” she murmurs instead, still moving against Bobbi, “shit, that’s…”

“Keep it down, sugar,” Bobbi murmurs, leaning to nip at Skye’s neck.

Whining softly, Skye manages to gasp, “You’re not gonna gag _me_.”

“No, but it still doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be careful,” Bobbi replies (behind them, Jemma is laughing softly).

 _I’m plenty careful_ is what Skye means to say, but mostly what comes out is a few soft incoherent noises. “Whatever,” she manages to hiss, “just don’t stop doing what you’re d-doing!”

“I won’t,” Bobbi says, and in fact she goes harder, more insistent. She can tell this is going to happen soon.

Sure enough, it’s not too much longer before Skye bites down on Bobbi’s shoulder to stifle her moans as she orgasms. “Jesus _christ,_ ” she says finally, once she’s calmed.

“I’m guessing that worked for you,” Bobbi teases, smug as anything.

Skye nods, not even trying to regain her composure right away. “It’s been a hell of an evening,” she gasps.

“Good,” Bobbi declares. “You need a minute before I put you back to work? I think we’ve been mean long enough.”

Jemma squeals inarticulately.

That makes Skye shiver a little. “I’m okay,” she says, squaring her shoulders. “What were you thinking?”

“Well, as you pointed out I’m not gonna gag you,” Bobbi begins, affecting a casual air, “but there’s still a pair of panties in my purse and I had an interesting idea. If you’re up for it.”

“Oh yeah?” Skye gives her a curious look.

“Just to try it,” Bobbi says. “How do you feel about going hands-free to finish honey off?”

“Huh.” Tilting her head, Skye pauses to think about it for a second. Then she shrugs and says, “Let’s try it.”

“Tell her she’s gonna do a good job, honey,” Bobbi prompts, smirking as she pulls Jemma’s panties out and starts twisting them enough to serve as impromptu handcuffs.

It doesn’t really work, of course, but Jemma tries, humming reassuringly. She’s a little shocked, which is a little thrilling.

Skye smiles over at Jemma. “Thanks, honey. Just something a little different.” She looks back at Bobbi. “How are we doing this, behind me, in front?”

“Behind,” Bobbi says immediately. “In front would be too tempting.” She motions for Skye to hold her arms out.

That makes Skye pout a little, but mostly for effect, and she positions herself accordingly. “Go on,” she says, smirking.

Carefully, Bobbi loops the panties around one of Skye’s wrists, then tightens the twist before slipping the other in. “On your knees, sugar?”

Skye does so. “Hey, honey,” she says, gazing up at Jemma. “How do I look?”

Jemma tries to purr, wiggling a little in her seat. It’s different, but it’s interesting.

“Kiss her for being so sweet, now,” Bobbi instructs.

Skye leans forward to press a kiss to Jemma’s center. Then, like she can’t help it, she starts to lick at her. “You taste so good, honey,” she hums.

Jemma hums her thanks and Bobbi chuckles. “How ready is she to come?” she asks.

Pausing a second, Skye says, “I mean, she’s pretty well gone already.” She pauses to playfully nuzzle Jemma’s clit with her nose. “I don’t think it’ll take a minute, even.”

Jemma whines. Now she’s determined to hold out.

“Aw, honey, it’s okay,” Skye purrs. “It’s adorable how into this you are.”

Somewhat in spite of herself, Jemma mumbles out what’s supposed to be “Always.”

“Cute,” Bobbi murmurs. She threads her hand in Skye’s hair and starts guiding her, just a little.

Skye makes a little noise of acknowledgement and lets Bobbi move her around a bit. She’s kissing and licking all over Jemma’s slit, because she knows that’ll work.

Oh, and it does, at least enough that Jemma starts whimpering loud enough that the panties might not even be all that useful and rolling her hips greedily.

“You’re getting close,” Bobbi encourages. “C’mon, sugar, c’mon, honey.”

Skye starts sucking on Jemma’s clit, moaning softly (Jemma really does taste good).

And after enough of that, Jemma wails and orgasms, her torso falling forward enough that Bobbi chuckles and goes to stand behind her, holding her up fondly. “Careful, honey,” she says. “That work for you?”

Breathless, Jemma nods.

“I’ll say,” Skye says with a laugh, “my face is soaked.” She grins up at Jemma. “That was super hot.”

Jemma squirms, but clearly happily, and she makes a noise that’s clearly a question, even if it can’t be understood yet.

“Just a second, honey,” Bobbi murmurs. “Scoot back a second, Skye, I’m gonna get honey untied here.” She starts working on Jemma’s arms, stopping every few seconds to press a kiss to her throat.

“If you undo me first, I could help,” Skye says, pouting playfully and giving Bobbi an exaggerated pleading look.

“I know what I’m doing,” Bobbi chides, finishing with Jemma’s arms and easing her back to rest against the chair. Then she moves around to the front to get Jemma’s ankles, nudging Skye out of the way with a gentle swing of her hips.

Jemma, for her part, tries to catch Skye’s eyes and nod reassuringly.

“Fine,” says Skye, tossing her head. “Is it because you think I’m gonna try to get myself off again?”

“It wasn’t until right now,” Bobbi teases. She gets Jemma fully free, then reaches up to tug the panties out of her mouth, murmuring, “You can figure it out?”

“I can,” Jemma mumbles, but she reaches for Bobbi’s hand hopefully. Help standing is good, she means, and considering how completely melted she’s gotten that’s reasonable.

“Up you get,” Bobbi says brightly, pulling Jemma to her feet and sending her on her way.

She doesn’t have far to go, luckily, considering she’s aiming for the spot behind Skye and she drops to her knees. “Hi,” she murmurs, very gently pulling the panties from around Skye’s wrists. “You’re good.”

“You too, honey,” Skye says, rubbing her wrists for a second (it didn’t hurt, but it did feel kind of weird) before putting her arms around Jemma. “You’re beautiful.”

“You,” Jemma says. “Can I kiss…?” She reaches for Skye’s arms, clearly implying her wrists.

“Oh, sure.” Skye offers them to Jemma.

So Jemma kisses first one wrist, then the other, impossibly gentle. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“Of course,” replies Skye. “Hey, let’s work on getting out of these fancy clothes and getting into bed, huh? Snuggling sounds great right about now.” She glances over at Bobbi and grins. “Unless you had any other fun ideas.”

“None that can’t wait,” Bobbi remarks. “We could get around to snuggling. Hey, honey, what were you trying to ask earlier?”

“Oh, ah, should someone fetch a towel?” Jemma asks shyly.

Skye giggles. “I’ll get one, just a sec.” She leaves and then returns, holding one of the hand towels from Jiaying’s guest bathroom. “We’ll just ball it up with some of the bath towels, Mom won’t notice,” she says, wiping her face off. “And if she does, well, she can just be glad she missed my teenage sexual shenanigans.”

“I don’t think she’ll care too much,” Bobbi remarks. “She’s clearly getting busy herself.”

“Oh my god, I know, right?” Skye says, grinning despite herself. “Like I don’t want to think about my mom’s sex life, but also, _damn._ Mom has great taste.”

Jemma giggles. “Janet seems very interesting,” she agrees.

“Right? I see why Mom likes her. Also, holy shit, I can’t believe Hope van Dyne’s dad probably murdered my dad in prison! And vice versa. I mean, I know Mom and Janet were saying they can’t know for sure, but…”

“Guess there’s a lot of that going around,” Bobbi chuckles, starting to unzip Skye’s dress. “Or at least more of that than usual.”

“Quarantine the terrible,” Jemma says solemnly, flopping down on the bed and waiting for her turn.

Skye nods. “I guess it worked out.” She shimmies out of the dress once Bobbi’s got it fully unzipped and reaches back to unhook her bra. “So I’m definitely not planning on PJs, don’t know about you two.”

“No PJs, please!” Jemma chirps, letting Bobbi pull her up and start working on her dress. “Don’t forget to hang that, or at least drape it somewhere, Skye. It’s too nice to just drop on the floor.”

Skye grumbles a little, but she gets up long enough to reluctantly hang up the dress in the closet. Then she flops on the bed and starfishes as best she can. “Now I’m not getting up anymore.”

“Valid,” Bobbi says. “You’re all good to go, honey. Mind getting mine, since sugar’s being lazy?”

“Of course! Let me,” Jemma exclaims, whirling around to get Bobbi’s zipper in a hurry. “Should I walk it to the closet as well? I have to go for mine.”

“I’ll get closet duty,” Bobbi assures, taking both of their dresses. “You just concentrate on getting naked and comfy.”

“But you’re the least closeted person I know, Bobbi,” teases Skye. “No way you should be on closet duty.”

“I don’t know about _least_ closeted,” Bobbi jokes. “Femme bis at least get away with ‘passing’ sometimes, gross as that is. But I appreciate the compliment.” That taken care of, she joins the other two on the bed, removing her bra as she does. “Honey gets middle spoon, I think.”

“I’m not complaining,” Jemma says sweetly, although she doesn’t turn on her side (she wants to enjoy both of her girls facing her for as long as possible). “Please.”

Skye nestles against Jemma. “Love you,” she murmurs. “Glad you had fun tonight. I sure did. And glad you had fun too, Bobbi.”

“It was all kinds of fun,” Bobbi agrees, draping an arm over Jemma’s stomach. “Unexpected, some of it. But fun.”

“Some,” Jemma giggles, leaning to kiss Bobbi and then Skye on the… well, neck or chest, considering that’s where’s closest.

Grinning, Skye adds, “Definitely going to have to think about the panty-stealing thing for later. If you’re up for that, honey.”

Jemma nods eagerly. “I mean, not if it’s a day I have an exam or something,” she says, “but sometime. That sounds…” She yawns, but she manages to finish with, “Delightful.”

“Sleepy?”

“A little,” Jemma says. “Covers?”

“Of course,” Bobbi hums, pulling the covers up over all three of them with a smile. “You’re both too adorable, you know.”

Skye snorts. “Thanks?”

“It’s a good thing on you,” Bobbi promises.

Skye’s about to snark more, but she notices Jemma’s having an (adorably) hard time keeping her eyes open at this point, so she says, “Guess it should be bedtime, huh?” and runs her hand through Jemma’s hair.

“Probably,” Jemma sighs. “Love you, Skye. Fond of you, Bobbi.”

Bobbi laughs. “Fond of you too, Jem.”

“Love you, Jem,” murmurs Skye, closing her eyes. “Like you just fine, Bobbi.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bobbi replies. “Night, nerds.”


End file.
